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luvyeni · 9 hours ago

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XO ( IF ONLY YOU SAY YES ) 𝕼. ( 심재윤 )

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 심재윤 x fem!reader ) ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. pinning, down bad jake, needy reader, oral ( f ), unprotected sex word count. 2k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library !

synonyms. jake waits for you by your door each night hoping you give him a chance , all you need to do it say yes …

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ i got inspired by a clip of jake from the behind the scenes of the xo music video.

as you walk down the dingy dim hallway of your apartment building to your door ; you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the boy standing in front of your door. “jake what have i told you about standing in front of my damn door?”

he smiled ; that damn smile that you hated , but secretly loved so much. “that you love it and i should do it everyday?” he smirked , you rolled your eyes. “that it’s annoying as fuck and makes you look like a stalker.” he put his hands up to his chest , like he was hurt. “you hurt me princess.” you glared at him. “stop calling me that , you know i hate it.” you could’ve put your pin in and walked into your apartment , but deep down you think you liked the attention. “jake go into your apartment.”

he pouted. “but i want to talk to you.” you scoffed. “i bet you said the exact same thing to the girl you brought over last night , where you then proceeded to put through your mattress?” his face turned red , he scratched the back of his neck, you laughed finally opening the door. “you forgot i can hear you , your bedroom is right next to mine.” you said , now standing half in the hall , half in your apartment. “what if i wanted you to hear? give you a preview of what could be you if you’d stop playing these cat and mouse games.” now smirking. “like i’d ever get inside your bed , don’t know what kind of fluids are on those sheets.”

“i don’t mind coming over to yours.” he was now standing in front of the door. “go home jake.” you said. “it’s late and i have to work , i don’t have time to deal with you.” you said closing the door. “good night yn!” he screamed through the door , you laughed , rubbing your temples.

the next night it was the same thing; walking to your door, the boy waiting for you. “hello the love of my life.” he smiled. “you look tired.” he said, noticing the sinking look in your eyes. “it was a long day today.” you unlocked your door. “you should let me come over and help ease your stress.” he said , you sighed. “jake.” you stared at him , breaking out into a smile , because you just couldn’t help it. “see i got you to smile.” you shook your head. “jake , go home.” you said walking into your apartment. “this isn’t over!” you shook your head , the boy was crazy , but he was cute.

even when he couldn’t be there he still made a way to bother you; coming home one day to a posted note taped to your door in his words. ‘had to work and couldn't be there to see you today, my love. take a nice bath and think of me while you’re in there’ you scoff , taking the letter into your apartment , sitting it on the table.

jake came home after a late night of work; dragging his bag behind him ready to unlock his door when he got distracted by a bright pink note. he picked it up to read it , smiling ear to ear when he realized who it was from. ‘in your dreams sim jaeyun.’ he looked back at your door , smiling as he made his way back into his apartment.

“you’re in a flirtationship with your neighbor.” your friend said over the video call. “girl what the hell is that?” you laughed , you had randomly explained it to her while you both painted your nails. “it’s so obvious you both want to fuck each other , but one of you , aka you is being a pussy.” she said , you scoffed. “you sound just like him.” you said , she shrugged. “he’s a smart man , is he cute?” you thought for a second. “extremely.” you said. “like one of the most attractive men i’ve ever seen.”

“so clearly you’re attracted to him , what’s holding you back?” she said. “i literally hear him fucking different girls almost every night.” you said. “what do they sound like?” you looked at your friend like she was crazy , that’s because she was. “do they sound like they’re enjoying it.” you thought about it for a second , they did genuinely sound like they were enjoying it , you could often hear their screams of pleasure as you covered your ears. “you know what , i can’t lie they do , he seems to be very good at what he does.”

“see now that should make you want to jump him even more.” she said. “you clearly won’t be disappointed if what you hear from your side of the wall is true and he is some sort of sex god.” she said. “think about it , when’s the last time you’ve gotten a really good fuck?” she said. “yeah it’s been a while.” you scoffed. “you didn’t have to say it like that.” she laughed , throwing her hands up. “maybe your neighborhood will be the one who takes you out of this obvious dry spell you're in.”

you thought about what your friend said all night ; and the entire day at work, and she was kind of right. besides , who were you to judge if jake had different girls spend the night? if you were as good looking as him , you definitely would have your fair share of ladies in your apartment. he was a single man , in his 20s. did you want to hook up with jake? you sighed at your desk. you did want to hook up with jake.

after your long day at work; you leaned against the elevator as you rode up to your floor; the door opened , revealing the boy who was on your mind the entire day. “jake.” he smiled. “you must’ve been thinking of me , because here i am , at your service.” he said , letting you step off the elevator. “are you not getting on?” he shook his head. “told i was waiting for you.” you turned to him. “okay fine , i was on my way out , but you’re here now.”

“i know how to get to my door , you don’t have to walk me.” you said , still smiling at the sweet gesture. “but i want to my love.” he responded softly , you both stopped at your door , a note waiting for you. “told you i was on my way out , couldn’t forget to grace you with my presence even if im not here.” he said , smiling as you picked up the letter , reading it — the blood draining from your face as you re-read the words. ‘i can fix that dry spell you’re under’

“how the fuck— you think i can’t hear you; you’re friend is pretty loud when she talks.” he smirked , his arms folded. “my friend is nuts.” you try to say. “is she? or are you just trying to say that so you can deny that what she said is true.” you gulp. “wh-what do you want jake?” you stutter out , trying to get your key to go into the hole , but your hands were too shaky. “i think.” he said , standing behind you , pressing against you , grabbing your hand to keep your hand steady , helping you put the key in the hole. “you already know what i want.” he said, leaning against the wall again. “and now i know you want it too.”

you were at your limit and your hot neighbor was just standing there, basically waiting for you to give him to go , you opened your door , once again half way in and halfway out. “just say yes , so i can finally kiss you.” he said. “ye-yes.” he wasted no time , pulling the door all the way open , grabbing the sides of your face , pulling you into a heated kiss.

he didn’t break the kiss , just guiding you back into your apartment , closing the door behind him; finally pulling away , his forehead pressed against yours. “your room.” he whispered breathlessly; you grabbed his hand , guiding him to your room , he bit down on his lip watching you from behind , he dreamt of this day countless times. “let’s get you out of these clothes.” he said , pushing the door open. “jake.” you whined as he bent down , unbuckled your pencil skirt , pushing it down your legs ; thank the lord you decided on the wear your good underwear to work. “so fucking sexy.” he kissed your thighs. “want these wrapped around my head , now.”

he pushed you down on the edge of the bed; grabbing the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs , pushing your legs apart. you moaned as the air hit your cunt. he cursed under his breath upon seeing how wet your were. “look at that.” he kiss in between your thighs. “poor neglected pussy.” he was dangerously close to your core. “so pretty.” he kissed your folds. “so sweet.” he licked your folds , you moaned , your legs definitely wrapping around his head , nose brushing against your clit as he ate you out like a starved man.

jake on the other hand was in heaven; the taste of your sweet cunt on his tongue, he’d often wondered what it would be like to finally taste you. “jake i’m gonna cum.” your hands tangled up in his hair , yanking it. “fuck i’m cumming!” you screamed out as you came , he kept going , until you were pushing his head away. “m’sorry.” he said , finally coming up for air. “got carried away , your pussy is just too sweet.” he smirked , his lips glistening. “i need you to fuck me.” you said , pulling him up. “please.”

how could he say no? stripping himself of his clothing , you took off your shirt , leaving you in your bra , which he took upon himself to reach behind , undoing your bra with one hand. “you-you’re awfully good at that.” you said. “like you’ve done it a hundred times already.” he pushed you back against the bed. “you talk too much.” he said , pinning you down to the bed , pushing your legs apart. “but i get it now.” he said , using his other hand to guide his fully erect cock to your hole. “it’s just because you need to be fucked probably.”

before you could even come back with a snarky rebuttal , he slid right inside of you. “ugh fuck!” he cursed , your mouth dropping open as his cock stretched you open. “ja-jake.” you whined as you felt him fully seethed himself inside of you. “please go faster.” he began to pick up the pace. “faster? deeper?” he said , his cock kissing your cervix over and over. “finally get to feel you wrapped around me.” he groaned. “fuck you’re so tight.” he grunted. “so fucking wet , it’s like you needed this more than i did.” he began to move at a inhumane pace. “jake !” you repeatedly shouted ; you’d be worried about your neighbor if he wasn’t the one plowing into you right now. “fuck jake i’m gonna cum!”

he gave you a few deep thrusts; using his thumb to rub your swollen clit. “cum for me.” he felt his own orgasm approaching. “fucking cum for me.” he let out a deep moan feeling your cunt fluttering around him as you came hard around him. “oh shit.” he pulled out just in time, cumming all on your spent pussy. “fuck.” he said coming down from his own high. “definitely worth waiting outside your door everyday.”

“does this mean you’ll stop hanging outside my door each and every night?” you asked the boy who was laying inside your bed. “like a stalker.” he rolled his eyes. “of course.” he said , you were shocked , he sounded serious. “really.” he nodded. “yeah , there’s no need to.”

“now that i know all i have to do is knock and you’ll let me in”

©️LUVYENI

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with-my-calamitous-love · 18 hours ago

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drawing hearts in the byline

osamu d. x reader

in a rare moment of “weakness” for him, dazai shows you whats underneath his bandages. angst/comfort, slight nsfw (implied)

this is one of those ones i needed to write, and i’m so glad i did. heres to all the comfort i’ve found on this app 🤍

song: tolerate it

broad shoulders and lean arms hold you in place on his mattress, touch firm but not mean. he’s seeing you for you, all of you, long, slender fingers unbuttoning and unlacing whatever they can find. his brown eyes stare, chocolate swirled admiration, as he finds more and more of you to expose.

its not his first time, nor is it yours, but dazai has that sort of magic about him. the kind of enchanting bliss that makes nightly, mundane rituals between couples far past their honeymoon’s feel like its their first time meeting. the kind of magic you find once in a lifetime, the kind of love that should be celebrated.

lips ghost over your face, nose nuzzling in with yours, a tender, almost child-like sweetness only dazai manages. you both know that even if you don’t have sex, you still want to feel skin against skin while you sleep. its a need for any touch-starved light sleeper.

the way your eyes ghost over the white fabric, mummifying him and what lies underneath, isn’t lost on him. he’s far too observant to miss a gaze like that, let alone your gaze.

but instead, he smiles, tilting your chin up so your eyes meet his. “looking at something, gorgeous?”

you wonder if that signature suave, that flintiness is a mask so fit, he either can’t go anywhere without it, or doesn’t realize he’s wearing it. either way, your hands intertwine with his, your thumb brushing over his bandaged knuckles.

“i just wonder why you always have these on, ‘samu. thats all.”

ah, the inevitable.

he hopes you don’t notice the slight fade that hits his smile, though he knows you will. years of barbed wire he threw blankets over, hoping it wouldn’t take up too much space or time. that he wasn’t taking up too much space.

he lifts his wrist, tracing over the lines of gauze. for a moment, he thinks, gears turning in his head, analyzing. he’s so used to holding his cards so close to his chest, most don’t realize he’s even hiding any. there are dangers with revealing himself, with making any moves un-calculated.

he short circuits when he feels your body shift closer to him, realizing that he is still in bed with you, and still needs to give you an answer. but he isn’t sure what to say- theres only one reason a man like him is always wearing bandages.

so why is he struggling to tell you the obvious?

“its not a pleasant story.” he settles on, eyes growing reminiscent. “its not even just one story.”

you bite your inner lip, looking for the words to say. some people don’t want to be comforted. some have a longing to simply disappear, and disappear is simply a soft word for that harsh reality.

his tendencies are so often treated as nuisances, you wonder if he ever had anyone that truly stopped and tried to understand.

“i just wanna know why.” you say, taking his hand. “i mean, i think i know. a little. but i wanna hear it from you.”

he’s embarrassed by how quickly that stinging feeling in his eyes arises.

“let me spare you from it.” his lips ghost a smile, fingers intertwined with yours. he isn’t sure what he’s done to deserve you- someone who sits and waits for him like a kid, using your best colors for his portrait, sitting with him in bed with zero traces of judgement or disdain. its funny how different we view ourselves and how others see us.

“don’t do that.” you’re stern, making sure he sees you. “i wanna be here for you. i want you to know that.”

he’s supposed so much older, wiser. and yet, he finds himself crumbling at just a few words.

his breath is shaky as he exhales. the only other person in his life who ever understood him died in his arms. he doesn’t want to wait to lose the second. he doesn’t want to lose you. for once in his life, he has something that may be worth living for.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.*

the bandages unravel like skin from bones. they’re not tight by any means, but he had gotten so used to wearing them, he wonders if the heater is off or if its just the air finding bare skin.

its his skin. he knows more than anyone what mars it by now. but seeing that look of horror cross your eyes, taking in the lines and burns, makes his stomach churn.

for once, he doesn’t have a witty comeback or a smart reply. he just lets you take it in. tolerate it.

he knows you’ll cry, but it still hurts when you do. those tears shouldn’t be falling from your eyes, his pain his alone. it had been that way for many years.

he anticipates shock, and tears, and sufferance. what he doesn’t expect is to feel your lips kissing down his wrist, actively seeking out those scars.

“beautiful,” he says, his free hand moving to your waist, almost instinctively. “what are you doing?”

“i love you.” you cut him off. “you don’t have to hide this from me. i’m sorry.”

he almost wants to laugh at the absurdity of your apology. why would you apologize for something he hid? he can’t figure it out, but he doesn’t try too, either.

its all foreign to him- kisses, love, acceptance. a vessel he taught himself to hate, to seek out death, you embraced and nurtured. he doesn’t have many words for that.

you finally work your way up to his face, forehead resting against his. dazai pulls you onto his lap, kissing you deep and slow, wanting to feel it until his lungs scratch for air. even after he gives out, needing to breathe, his face stays mere centimetres away from yours.

and that need isn’t one sided, either. your arms wrap around his neck, his bare neck, arms finding their place despite the many slits and scars. your heart is beating his name in morse code, the space between yours and dazai’s lips your temple, your mural, even your sky.

he lets out a humourless laugh, coffee eyes staring into yours. “is it tolerable?”

your quick to shake your head, shutting him up with another kiss. “i’m not tolerating it. not when i still love you. i’m not some god damn martyr.”

he blinks away a single tear, lips curving into a smile- a genuine one.

“i love you.” he whispers.

“i love you too.”

“well, now that we’re both undressed.”

“REALLY, ‘samu?”

he laughs, pushing you onto the bed, keeping you up the entire night. if you can celebrate him, he’ll learn to tolerate himself. maybe a little.

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g1rld1ary · 8 hours ago

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well kept secret - spencer reid x hotch's daughter!reader

wc: 1420

cw: none!

me: back on my criminal minds grind... also im not gonna lie to u guys i just got back from a hosue party and im extremely drunk, so if u see any mistakes don't be afraid to lmk. also if u have any requests for hotch!daughter pls send them thru bc im heavy into reid rn i just adore him <3

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“Who is that?” JJ asked, pointing subtly over to the figure walking cautiously out of the elevator doors. The figure, of course, being you, nervously trying to find your way around the glitzy BAU offices.

“God knows we needed a new pretty face around here — no offence, ladies,” Morgan laughed, drawing well-humoured insults from the women of the office.

“I for one don’t take any offence, her shoes are so cute!” Garcia gushed from over Morgan’s shoulder, eyes locked on your sleek black heels.

“Oh my god, they look just like the ones in that window we passed on the way to dinner, don’t you remember? Even Hotch said they were nice!” Kate wheeled her way into the conversation on her swivel chair.

It was a slow day around the office, not something that went unappreciated, so each agent was eagerly amenable to conversation.

“Reid, come over here,” Morgan beckoned, “Has she ever been here before?”

“Me?” He spluttered, eyes searching frantically, “Why would you ask me? Hundreds of people come into this building every day, let alone the thousands we see on the street every day, on cases—”

“And you have an eidetic memory kid, are you thinking straight or is the pretty girl messing up Boy Genius?”

Reid would drop dead before admitting that Morgan’s words had any truth to them, but his usually overactive speech pattern was halted by the vision of you entering the office’s glass double doors. His mouth dried out as you looked around, obviously unsure of where you were headed.

“No,” He finally answered, “I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

“She looks lost. Kind of scared, even?” JJ was giving her signature maternal look, concern etched into her face and Garcia was up before anyone could tell her it might not have been a good idea.

The gang watched from afar as your expression brightened from worried to delighted as Garcia began to chat with you, eyes gleaming as you pointed down to your heels. Clearly she’d repeated the earlier compliment.

“Hi! I’m Penelope Garcia, technical analyst, and you are gorgeous. I’m in love with your shoes!” The introduction and compliment took you by surprise but you were by no means disappointed, replying with equal giddiness.

“Thank you so much, my Dad bought them for me!” You extended your right leg slightly to show off the heel more holistically, “And I just love your outfit, the glasses are everything.”

Garcia gushed her own appreciation as the two of you became fast friends, so you chanced a request for help.

“I’m looking for SSA Aaron Hotchner’s office? I know it’s one of the big fancy ones but I’m not sure exactly which.”

“Up those stairs and second door! You can’t miss it, the big boss energy radiates as soon as you go near.” You both laughed and you made sure to thank Garcia profusely.

Reid watched as you pointed up to the private offices, evidently searching for a specific office. He wondered who you could be looking for. He didn’t have to wonder for long as Garcia rushed back, talking a million miles an hour as she explained that you were looking for Hotch. That brought more questions than answers, and the BAU were quick to place bets on what you could possibly want from him.

“Well, she’s certainly too young to be his girlfriend,” Morgan laughed, “Unless Hotch gets down more than we thought.”

“Could be a young woman looking for a mentor? She looks about college age, maybe just graduated?” Kate suggested and JJ nodded in agreement, neither even pretending to be working anymore.

Meanwhile, you’d made your way up to Hotch’s office, knocking softly on the oak door.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, eyebrows raising only slightly, an extreme show of emotion for the man.

“Check your watch, Agent Hotchner,” You smiled, unsurprised that he’d gotten totally consumed by his work.

“Damn,” He huffed under his breath, “I’m sorry, should we go now, then? And what did I tell you about calling me that?”

“Sorry, Dad,” You emphasised the title, “And yeah, let’s head. I’m starving.”

Down in the bullpen, even Rossi had been roped into the shenanigans.

“You’re the closest with Hotch, if anyone would know who she is it’s you!” JJ said, the rest of the group agreeing.

“Why don’t you just, I don’t know, ask him?” Rossi shook his head like he was dealing with small children. Sometimes he was convinced he was.

You took Hotch’s offered arm and the two of you left his office, making quiet smalltalk. The office fell eerily quiet as you two emerged from the behind the closed door, and you got the distinct impression that the BAU had all been talking about you.

Obviously Hotch noticed the team very unsuccessfully playing it cool and muttered a curse, signalling to you to head over to them. You supposed you were going to finally get your formal introductions.

“This is Rossi, Derek Morgan, JJ, Kate Cunningham, Penelope Garcia, and Doctor Spencer Reid. Guys, this is my daughter.”

If you thought there was silence before, it was nothing compared to when Hotch dropped that bomb. You could hear a pin drop.

“Um, it’s really nice to meet you all! I’ve heard so many stories about your work.”

“And we’ve never heard anything about you, pretty girl.”

“Morgan,” Hotch warned with hardly any bite as you laughed off Morgan’s playful flirting.

“Derek Morgan you are exactly like I was told. You too, Penelope, my father was not exaggerating about your outfits.”

“I thought you were starving?” Hotch changed the subject to tease you, nudging you to get moving.

“Alright, alright, I get it. You don’t want me taking all your friends,” You grinned, getting moving nonetheless. The BAU laughed, both charmed and confused by you. It wasn’t unbelievable you were Hotch’s daughter — your quiet confidence and posture was the same, but your friendliness and more easily understandable humour set you two apart.

“Bye everyone!” You called over your shoulder as Hotch rushed you out the doors, clearly keen for you to stop making friends with his coworkers.

“She seems nice,” JJ commented, sitting back down in her swivel chair.

“Can we all talk about how Pretty Boy didn’t say a word that whole conversation?” Morgan asked, a hand clamping deviously on Reid’s shoulder.

“Spencer!” Kate laughed, “You don’t have a crush, do you?”

Reid could feel his cheeks heating up of their own accord, his usually genius brain useless to counteract it.

“No!” He blurted out, “I just didn’t want to say something wrong or bore her with facts like I do with you guys.”

“So you do want to impress her?” Garcia teased with a toothy grin as Reid rushed to shake his head no.

“She’s our boss’ daughter, guys. I think all of us should want to impress her, right?”

“I dunno, Reid, I don’t see Morgan or JJ blushing right now,” Rossi chimed in with a laugh before heading back to his office.

You stepped into the elevator with Hotch, chatting happily about your day so far. Your father stuck his hand out to hold the door open with such speed it scared you a little, jumping in your own body. You relaxed when you saw it was just Penelope Garcia, hurrying towards you with a few files in her hands.

“Thank you, sir,” She breathed as the doors closed behind her, “I forgot Rossi wanted these scanned and digitised from the last case!” She punched the button for the third floor. “It was really nice to meet you, by the way. Even if Hotch has kept you a secret all these years.”

“To be totally fair to him, I wouldn’t say he exactly kept me a secret if he only found out I existed a few years ago. It was nice to finally meet you all too, though. I’ve heard so many work stories.”

You bid Garcia goodbye as the doors opened once again. Just as she was almost down the hall she heard your voice whisper, “Why didn’t you tell me doctor Reid was hot and smart?”

Penelope hardly concealed her gasp, delighted at the newfound revelation. This would be fun for her.

#giasfics˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀#fluff #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #dr spencer reid #bau team #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #matthew gray gubler #love #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds imagine #dr reid #criminal minds fanfiction

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steviewashere · 1 day ago

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Filling Static in the Dead Air

Rating: General Pairings: Robin & Steve, Steddie, Robin/Original Female Character CW: Robin and Steve Being Assholes To Each Other, Friendship Breakup Tags: Post-Canon, Angst, No Comfort, Bittersweet Ending, Unhappy Ending, Dialogue Heavy, Phone Conversations, Letters, Steve & Robin's Friendship, Time Splitting Up Friendships, Platonic Stobin, Steve Harrington Loves Robin Buckley, Robin Buckley Loves Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart Am I basing this off of experience? Maybe. Is this kinda out of character? Probably. Anyway.

☎️—————☎️ *BEEP*

“Hey, Robbie…it’s…well, it’s Steve. Um, I-I’ve been trying to catch you for a while now…seems we’re missing each other a lot these days, huh? No big deal, I’ve been busy…you’ve been busy. I get it. So. Just wanted to call and say that I…I really hope you have a good day. Think that’s all I say nowadays, but I mean it. Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. And…and I hope that exams go over swimmingly. You’re, like, the smartest person I know—don’t tell Dustin I said that, if you…if you, um, still keep in touch with him—anyway. You’ve got this. You’re gonna do amazing, I know it. Soooo…yeah. Yeah, that’s all. If you need anything from me—or even Eddie—or um…if you just wanna talk to your favorite dingus, I’ll be here. There’s a gap in my schedule, new job on the horizon, hopefully. I’ve got the time for you, that’s all I’m saying. Yeah. I…I think that’s it? Love you, Robbie. Call me soon?”

——— Steve can admit—now that it’s been a couple of years—that when Robin said she was going to college out of state, his heart and stomach dropped out of him to the floor. It was a sort of sixth sense he’s adapted to. This aura, a curdling sick sense, that would sit dormant until the words left somebody’s mouth. “I’m leaving.” That’s all it took.

Not the kind of leaving when a hangout was over. Not the kind of leaving when the party came to a halt. Not the kind of leaving when the day’s been run through.

No, it was the kind of leaving that meant business trips and a stale home, playdates by himself on his knees in the wood chips, and friends going over yonder from grass fields and tornado sirens.

His brain was kind enough to flip an hourglass distantly for him. Once the sand dwindled from one side, it was over. And that had been approaching a while with Robin. He always knew that it would happen in the aftermath of one of those Upside Down free-for-alls. Just…he didn’t expect it so immediately. When Vecna crumpled into himself like a paper bag, wounds scarred over, and July came rolling on in.

And then 1987 passed.

Followed by 1988.

Now, in the dead winter of 1989, during the big college winter break season, before a whole new decade rolled in, he’s not so sure about this friendship anymore. That’s not to say that it wasn’t a good one. That he didn’t laugh and spill his secrets and have weird proximity sleepovers in his basement—despite having the guest rooms upstairs. No, he loved Robin with every coiled fiber of his soul. To the moon and back. All those cliche things.

She was the only girl that ever mattered in his life nowadays. He dreamed of her. Wept over her. Celebrated with her. They chatted for hours after she lost her virginity, whisper calling while her hook-up (now girlfriend) snored in the background. Robin was the first one to hear about when he was eventually kicked out of his parents’ place, when he hauled ass to a dingy shoebox apartment near a dilapidated McDonald’s that didn’t survive Vecna. When he stirred up forgotten feelings in his chest, he laid star-spread on his bathroom floor, spooning melted ice cream past his lips, sobbing about a boy. And, eventually, when he had Eddie problems? To Robin he went.

He knows that she’s busy. Always is. Between foreign language club meetings, study sessions in her college’s library, and having brunch with the girls…Robin’s not a free bird anymore. She belonged to the college life, to sorority parties where she frenched her girlfriend in a linen closet and managed handstands over kegs. Sometimes, he’d be lucky to get a call at those parties, Robin’s syrup slurred voice and her hideous hiccups like muffled laughter over the speaker. Other times, he just had to hope she made it back to her dorm okay.

It’s partially his fault, too. Been switching rapid between jobs. Family Video to RadioShack to Circle K to Walmart. Then, after that, he fell into his couch with a pink slip in his hand. Too many tardies. Too many late nights where he fought sleep as if it were Billy Hargrove’s racist mouth, but he couldn’t call Robin those nights and he couldn’t curl into Eddie the right way. So. He misses her calls, he wipes his answering machine because it gets too full, he’s between jobs on his sorry fucking couch, and Robin’s too busy nowadays to reach out.

But he keeps trying. Boy, does he keep trying.

——— *BEEP*

“Steve…Stevie…*sniff* hey, um, I’m sorry. Keep missing you, dingus. I miss you like crazy. It’s…this place isn’t right without you. But I spent kind of a lot of money to be here. And I think I’m gonna be in debt until the day I fucking die and—*sniff*—sorry, shit. My new roommate this semester…god, can you believe it’s been a whole semester since you called me? I’ll try and get better on that, swear. Anyway. My new roommate is a colossal bitch, just capital B Bitch. Had, um, th-that nightmare about Scoops? You know the one. Where you…yeah…um…she hates that I cry in my sleep. That I—*sob*—do that, sobbing. And then I try and call you on those nights, but either you aren’t home or you’re busy doing Eddie or something or…or she yells at me for calling you. But…but I swear, Steve, I miss you, too. And if I could, I’d come bother the fuck out of you. Finals went well. January’s being January over here. Snowing like crazy. Anyway. Just called because you did, to say I’m sorry, to just…I was hoping to hear your voice. Make sure that you’re not…I’ll call you, okay? If I don’t…if I don’t, I’m sorry. My schedule’s out of my control most days. Yeah…yeah, I’m sorry.”

——— “You’re gonna burn a hole into that phone if you keep staring at it, Steve.”

He blinks, eyes dry, and looks over to Eddie. Backlit by the bright snow through the windows, hanging up his wet coat by the door, stepping out of his shoes. His cheeks are rosy, blushed by the cold. The soft smile Eddie flashes him makes his chest cave, words caught like thorns in his throat, his already pink waterlines burn fresh.

Taking his silence for what it is, Eddie shuffles through to the living room where Steve is sitting hunched on the couch, and bends down to kiss the top of Steve’s head. His left hand comes up to brush through Steve’s tangled hair, stringy and unwashed. “How long have you been out here, baby?” Eddie asks softly. “Look like a leaf that could fall any moment.”

Steve takes a shaky breath. “Robin called.”

“Oh?” Eddie takes a seat in the armchair diagonal to the couch, mismatched blues they are. “After her voicemail the other day? Or were you listening to it back?”

“No, after. It’s just…we had nothing to talk about.”

“Nothing? You guys have all this time apart, how is there nothing to talk about?”

Shrugging, Steve mumbles, “Don’t know.” He runs a tired hand over his face, through his hair, messing with the knots at the end of it. Can’t even bring himself to look Eddie in the eyes. “Chatted about her school. Her new roommate. The foreign language club she’s got. And then we got to talking about me and…and I had nothing to say. I’m in between jobs, I clean all day because I can’t just lay around and do nothing, I can’t sleep at night…told her about how our neighbors argue. Then, well, then I just talked about you.”

Eddie hums. “It’s okay, you know,” he murmurs, “if you guys can’t find stuff to talk about? That’s okay.”

“Is it? I just”—he sighs—“she’s been my best friend for years. We’ve got nothing to talk about. Like we’re just acquaintances on the bus or something. It’s dumb. It’s so stupid.”

“Honey…” Eddie coos. “Steve, what’s stupid about that? There’s nothing dumb about having a stilted conversation every once in a while.”

“It’s not just once in a while, though, Eds!” he snaps. Affronted with himself, Steve curls tighter, shoulders up to his ears. “Every time, now. When I wanna talk to her, there’s nothing. My life is so…so dull and dumb and…I feel so small compared to her now. Which isn’t fair of me to say, because she’s out there following her dreams…And…” He trails off with another shrug.

Once the room goes completely quiet, Steve pushes himself back, deep into the backrest of the couch. He puts his face in his left hand, pointed away from Eddie, and looks off. Nowhere in particular. No more words to dredge up.

“Steve?”

“I think I’m gonna write a letter. Maybe…maybe the phone’s too easy to forget.”

——— Robbie,

New thing. Letters. It’ll be easier, yeah? Just put what I wanna say out to you.

So. No new calls coming for me about my applications. Think a bunch of firings on my resume has employers turning away. Can’t even use my mom as a reference anymore, kinda lost on that end, I guess. Reached out to Hopper, though. Maybe getting a cop’s reference will look good? They’ll see me come in with Jim Hopper’s signature and number and they’ll think, “That kid must be a goody two shoes,” or something like that, and they’ll want to hire me. You think it’ll work? You know better than I do.

Watched The Apartment finally. It’s a good movie. You know, Fran kinda looks like Vickie. I found you out, Robs. You’ve got a big secret lesbian thing for redheads. Who would’ve thought? Does your current girlfriend look like Fran? I’ve been dying to meet her. I feel bad, I can’t even remember her name right now. I hope she treats you good.

Eddie treats me good. Made spaghetti last night for me, meatballs and everything. He burnt the hell out of the corn I bought, though. Ended up with just spaghetti, some beer, and a couple pieces of garlic bread. I’ll make a chef out of him one day. Though, gotta admit, I feel bad somedays. He goes out and works all day, brings home most of the money, and then also cooks sometimes. I try and keep up with him. Do some chores or something. You know, so I don’t look like a bad partner.

Anyway. There isn’t much else to say, really. Just hope you get this. Maybe you’ll take the time to answer?

Your cursive is the only cursive I can read, so. If you do write back, make it pretty for me? I like the way your letters curl.

—Steve

——— There’s been no new mail in weeks. Other than the bills and Eddie’s paychecks. He got one call from the manager of some local, newly built steak restaurant. Got the job as a new waiter, so that’ll be thrilling for him. More customer service.

He gathers the mail that comes in their little mailbox, runs back up the stairs to their apartment, and snuggles next to Eddie on the couch. An arm thrown over his shoulders. Hands passing through envelopes like he can manifest a returning letter.

“Damnit,” he eventually mutters, tossing the envelopes onto the coffee table. Steve leans back, nestled deeper into Eddie’s side, and pouts. “There’s nothing, Eds. What the hell.”

“Give her some time,” Eddie gently says—ever the reasonable one, oddly—“she’s probably still settling into her new semester. Almost a college graduate, babe, not a lot of time on her hands.”

“She could call, you know. Now she’s gonna respond and I’m gonna be too busy with work. This is bullshit.”

Eddie sighs next to him. Heavy and tired. “You’ll find the time, Steve. You always do.”

——— *BEEP*

“I got your letter, Stevie. Listen, I’ve gotta make this call quick, but I just need you to listen. I can’t write back, I’m sorry. My mind’s already scrambled with a million essays and other assignments right now, so letters aren’t really a priority for me. But I’ll call, okay? I missed you this time, but we’ll get it right eventually. I know it. Uhh…yeah. Oh! Yes, my current girlfriend, Rita, she definitely looks like Fran. You got me, dingus, I’ve got a thing for redheads. Anyway. Shoot. Sorry, I gotta go. Rita’s taking me to this new queer place in town. Gonna get drinks! It’ll be awesome. Okay, Stevie, bye. I love you, bye.”

*BEEP*

“Steve…Steeeeveee…I am very drunk right now. And sweaty. So much dancing. *hiccup* Just wanna tell you that you’re a good friend, m’kay? Rita…ooo, Rita ordered nachos. This payphone is crazy sticky. Bye, dingus!”

——— *BEEP*

“I hope you got home safe. Thanks for not answering. [silence] I can’t have you calling in the middle of the night anymore, though. Okay? I love you to pieces, Robs, but seriously. Eds and I were sleeping, we have work today. [disgruntled silence] And if you’ve got homework or whatever, then you should probably stay back at your dorm and do it, right? Instead of getting shitfaced at the bar? I—[*a large sigh*]—Eddie’s trying to tell me I shouldn’t be mad at you. That I should just give you time to reach back. But.

"This is just getting…it’s bullshit, okay? I call you and you don’t answer. You call me, I try to get back within the next day. And that’s what I did the last time you called me. And then…what? I start writing you letters, but you’re too piled up with homework to respond? Oh, but you’re not too busy to get shitfaced on a…Wednesday? A Wednesday, Robin. Wednesday? I know you’ve got class today, should you really be out…Never mind. I’m not your parents. I’m not. I’m just your good friend, Steve. Your good friend from back home who you don’t visit when you’re on break because you don’t have enough time. [silence] Promise me you’ll take some Advil and have a few glasses of water? I’d bring you a bagel or something, but…just take care of yourself, Robin. Please just take care of yourself. I have to go to work. Maybe I’ll get some big tips from boyfriends on late Valentine’s Day dates. Send you flowers or some shit. I love you, Robin. Even when you piss me the fuck off, I love you…Bye, Robs.”

——— “You don’t answer either, Steve.”

“Well good evening to you, too, Rob”—

“Don’t be a bitch. Just because I found the time to go out with my girlfriend doesn’t mean I’m fucking ignoring you like you’re…you’re my spoiled little dog.”

Steve tosses a glance over his shoulder, standing with his back to the front door just as Eddie comes through it. He shields himself, shadowing over the phone with his head lowered. “Robbie, can I call you back, please? I’m about to have dinner with”—

“Oh, so you can have dinner with Eddie? But I can’t have drinks with Rita? Fuck off, Steve. You know that’s a bunch of horseshit, right? I’m supposed to make time for you, but you can’t make time for me when I call”—

“Oh, when you finally call me back—what is it—three days later? Sorry, Robin. Guess I have some double standards that I didn’t know about! Guilty as charged!”

Over the line, he can hear her take a steady, deep breath. He imagines it, her face red with anger, and feels a sick lick of satisfaction deep in his gut. “Don’t be such a little fucking brat, Steve.”

He rolls his eyes so hard it hurts. “Like insulting me is gonna keep me on the phone with you. I’ve got chicken that’s thawed in the fridge right now and it needs to be made tonight. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna make dinner for my boyfriend and I”—

Suddenly, there’s a hand on his shoulder. He jerks in surprise, turning swiftly with the phone in his tight grip. Eddie’s behind him, furrowed eyebrows and eyes narrowed in concern. Steve throws up his free hand as if to signal, ‘What.’ Instead of a huff or an eye roll, Eddie’s soft with him. Petting his hand down his back. “I’ll make dinner,” Eddie whispers, “I want you to figure this out with Robin.”

Steve muffles the phone with his empty hand, pulling it away from his mouth. “She’s being an asshole, Eds. I don’t want to”—

“Baby, I don’t want you guys to lose each other. You two matter to one another. Figure it out…even if you have to argue, figure it out.”

With a pat to his back, Eddie steps away. Steve sighs, relenting—knowing Eddie’s reasonable and right, damnit—and brings the phone back up to his ear. “You still there, Robin?”

“Yup.”

“Listen…Robs…I-I don’t know what to say to make this better, okay? I’m gonna be honest. I don’t know what to do.” He shifts awkwardly on his feet. Eventually, though, within a matter of seconds, he decides to plop down onto the closest couch cushion. Hunched over his knees, pinching between his eyebrows. “I miss your calls, I know that. And I’m sorry, okay? Shit, I’m…I’m really fucking sorry”—his voice wavers, eyes burning despite trying to pinch the waterworks closed—“there’s no excuse. I’m not in college. I’m not, like, busy with my family or anything. I just. I’m just Steve. With his stupid minimum wage job. And I’m really fucking boring now, okay? I get busy with my shifts and I forget to answer. I try to get caught up in Eddie, trying to—shit, you can’t let him know this, okay? I’m gonna drop my voice”—and he does just that—“I get caught up trying to distract myself from…from myself. That doesn’t make sense, I know it doesn’t. And it’s not an excuse. Sometimes, Rob, sometimes”—and here come the blubbering tears…—“I just stand at the phone and wait for you to call me. Then you don’t. All I do is…all I do is work and sleep and wait.

“I miss you so fucking much, Robin. You…it’s so fucking pathetic…you’re my only, like, adult friend other than Eddie. But he’s in his own category, y’know? So. It’s just. Shit. I don’t know what I’m trying to say, Robs. I just miss you. I wait and I miss you.”

For a moment, there’s a steady stream of stilted silence. Then, quiet, Robin breaks with, “I miss you, too. But…Steve, I can’t be your only friend. And…and you’re not my only friend anymore. I know I’ve been shitty with answering the phone, responding to your letters. Things are busy. And I don’t have the time. And when I find time for myself, I’m sorry, but I don’t think of you first anymore. You have to…you have to understand that, Steve.

“Believe me, I try to reach out to you. When I have the time, when I…when I remember, I call you. You aren’t the first person that comes to mind anymore, okay? I have to be honest with you, too. I’m sorry. I can’t say that enough and I also think I’ve said it too much.

“But I’m about to graduate. Rita and I…we’re moving in together once I get my diploma”—

“Will you send me your new address? If you remember?” God, he can’t believe he just said that. He can’t believe he’s been…forgotten. “Maybe I can send you some congratulatory flowers or something?”

She takes a deep breath. Noticeably settling into something.

He sorta hates that he can picture her, shimmying into her spot. Getting comfy. Can imagine her in her dinky pajamas, the same ones she’s had since freshman year of high school. Thinks of her with her makeup freshly washed off, hair neatly brushed, relaxing in her bed. Wonders if she’s reading anything.

But he won’t ask. It doesn’t feel like that kind of conversation.

“I’ll give it to you before I graduate, okay? We’re gonna settle on an apartment before I’m done here. Um…yeah. Yeah…

“I’m sorry for being an asshole, you didn’t deserve that.”

“I’m sorry, too. You didn’t deserve it either. Just, y’know me, I get in my head.”

“Yeah,” she sighs. And it hurts, only a little—like a minor burn from the edge of a frying pan—that she didn’t reassure him. “I know I called, but I’ve gotta go. I have a test in the morning. And I’m ready for bed, so…yeah.”

“Okay…yeah…that’s—I’ve gotta help Eddie with dinner so”—

“What are we gonna do?”

“Hm?”

“…What are we gonna do? I don’t know when I’ll be able to call again. And I know you’re getting busier. I won’t have a break until, maybe, June? I don’t wanna leave you like this…but I can’t promise anything this time and”—

“I don’t know,” Steve softly interrupts. “We’ll figure it out, though, okay?”

There’s a long lull of silence. Longer than any he’s experienced with Robin. Softly, “Okay,” she says. Though, it doesn’t quite reach his ears the right way. It’s not a hopeful sound. It’s…tired and broken and weepy.

He knows that, after this, they won’t hear from each other anymore.

It’s a claw to the chest. A knife in the gut.

If he removes it, he’ll die. If he lets it linger, he’ll die. The way the word breaks in his head, her soft okay in his ear, he’d rather the knife remain. The pain, the blood, the simmering ache.

“Robin?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

A murmur, “I love you, too.”

The phone crackles between them. Those are the last words he hears before the line goes dead. “Bye,” he whispers into the plastic, to nobody on the other side. And with the receiver gripped tight in both hands, nestled between his legs, he lets the burn behind his eyes engulf.

Tears sluggishly worm down his cheeks. Hot and burning.

“Steve?” Eddie softly calls to him. “You okay?”

When he looks in the direction of his name, Eddie is sitting next to him. A hand between his shoulder blades, the other reaching for the phone. Without much thought, Steve is turning into Eddie’s chest, dropping his grip on the receiver.

In one sweeping motion, Eddie brings him in, burying him closer. “I gotcha, baby,” he whispers into Steve’s hair, “I’ve gotcha.”

“I lost her,” he sobs, “lost my best friend.”

With Robin’s words floating through his head, the soft crackle of her raspy voice, that image of her comfy in bed, he breaks. Coughing, gagging, and crying, he breaks against Eddie’s neck.

——— November, 1985

“Steve? Do you think we’re best friends in every universe?”

“Hm…if we aren’t, I’m glad we’re best friends in this one.”

They’re holding hands, sprawled on his mattress, both sweat drenched from Scoops nightmares.

“Me too,” Robin whispers, “I love being your friend.”

“I love being yours,” he matches, “we’ve got each other for life now. No way to get rid of me.”

“Like we’re ever going to be apart.”

“Yeah,” Steve laughs. “No way is that happening. We’re stuck on each other like glue.”

☎️—————☎️

#stranger things #platonic stobin #stobin #steve harrington #robin buckley #steddie #eddie munson #angst

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crossfandomskylines · 3 days ago

Text

Backseat Fever

Summary: Award season is in full swing, and Hollywood’s golden boy, Glen Powell, is at the center of it all. By his side? You. The woman who’s captured his heart. From the flashing lights of the red carpet to the electrifying energy of the after party, Glen keeps you close. But behind the glitz and glamour there’s a different kind of tension building, one that crackles like electricity between you. And when the night winds down and the two of you are finally alone…well, some things just can’t wait until you’re back at the hotel.

Warnings: 18+. 🍸Alcohol Use. 🔥Explicit Sexual Content. (Fingering, Semi Public Nudity, sex in the backseat of a car, Unprotected PinV). 🔥Semi Public Intimacy (They get a little frisky in a bathroom and have sex in a car.)

Word Count: 9,417 (I don't even know what to say about this. 9k words of pure filth.)

A/N: Thank you to @hunterthecharmer for giving me the idea for this one (and for giving me the blessing to go ahead and write this). I really hope I did your idea justice. And yes I am still not over the look we got at the GG so of course I had to use that in this story. Also this story is basically pure filth and I swear I had an out of body experience writing this because I’ve never felt this confident writing smut, nor have I ever written something this long in once sitting. (I started working on this starting this morning after getting the okay from Hunter and spent most of today working on it.) I blame it on ovulation and not having a release for all those hormones on the smut for everything that happened in this story.

The hotel suite is bathed in a soft light as the afternoon sun shines in through the window. Outside the muted hum of cars passing by can be heard, but it’s mostly drowned out by the low music playing in the suite. Your hair cascades in soft waves down your back as the stylist’s fingers curl each section. The makeup artist in front of you hums quietly to herself as she applies the finishing touches of your look.

Your eyes move to where Glen is lazily lounging on the bed nearby. He’s already in his tuxedo pants and a charcoal colored silk shirt is stretched across his frame. He has the sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms as his fingers move idly against his phone.

“Do you always take this long to get ready or am I distracting you?” Glen teases, his voice smooth and warm like honey, as he looks up and catches your gaze.

You roll your eyes. “I’m just making sure that you’re not the only one that turns heads tonight.”

He raises an eyebrow as the corners of his mouth curve into a half-smile. “Don’t think you need to worry about that, sweetheart. I think I’ll need to fight off half the room with the way you’re looking.”

A few minutes later both the hair and makeup artists are finished with your look. You make your way into the bathroom and gently close the door behind you. You glance at the dress hanging on the shower rod. It’s a shimmering Elie Saab gown in tones of gold and silver, the slit running high up your thigh. It was a gift from Glen or more accurately a recommendation from his stylist that Glen paid for, the dress designed to complement Glen’s look perfectly.

You slip your hands into the fabric of the dress and admire it as you pull it off the hanger. The weight of it is luxurious against your fingers and the fabric glides easily as you step into it. It’s tailored to fit you perfectly, and hugs your curves in all the right ways. But the last step of putting it on, the zipper, proves to be a challenge.

You hesitate knowing it’s a one of a kind dress and not wanting to tear it by jerking on the zipper too hard. And truthfully, a small part of you doesn’t mind asking Glen to help you.

“Glen, can you help me with the zipper?” You call out as you crack the bathroom door open just an inch or two.

He glances up at you and immediately stands up. He makes his way into the bathroom, softly closing the door behind him. You turn away from him, your back now facing him.

There’s a long pause before he smirks. “Need some help, huh?”

You turn your head just enough to meet his gaze, your lips curving into a sly smile. “Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

His fingers reach out and brush over your skin as he takes the zipper in his hand. You can feel the heat of his body close behind you. The scent of his cologne hits your nose, notes of sandalwood and vanilla but something deeper and richer that you can’t quite identify is there too.

Your heart skips as he starts to slide the zipper up, but then he stops. You can feel the slight shift in his posture, and the way his breathing catches just the slightest.

“Damn…” he mutters, his voice low and hushed almost like he’s saying it to himself.

You glance at him over your shoulder with an eyebrow raised and a smirk on your face. “What?”

His eyes lock with yours before his gaze lowers just enough to catch a glimpse of the lingerie set you’re wearing underneath - a delicate black lace set he bought you a few months ago. A set that you purposely planned to wear tonight.

His lips curve into an almost devilish smile as he looks at your eyes again. “Sweetheart, that’s just cruel.”

You let out a soft laugh, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks, but you refuse to let it faze you. “What, you don’t like it? I thought you liked this set.”

His fingers tighten slightly around the zipper, pulling it up just a little more. “Oh, I like it. I just might not be able to focus on anything else knowing this is what you’ve got on underneath.” As he says it his voice drops an octave, edged with something darker.

Once the zipper is fully secured Glen steps back, his fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary against your back. A teasing smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, but before he can say anything your gaze flickers towards the vanity. Sitting there glinting under the lights is the necklace he gave you for Christmas last year. A delicate piece made of fine yellow gold with a small but beautiful diamond. It’s understated yet elegant, which is what you loved about it. You’re secretly a little happy that the Glen’s stylist chose that piece in particular to pair with your dress for the evening given the sentimental meaning behind it.

“Can you put this on for me?” You ask picking the necklace up and turning to face Glen.

His expression softens as he takes it from your hands. “Of course.”

You gather your hair, lifting it off your neck as he steps behind you. His fingers brush against your skin as he secures the clasp, and the warmth of his hands sends a shiver down your spine. Instead of stepping away immediately he lingers, letting his hands drift down to your shoulders.

“You look beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice a low rasp in your ear. Then he presses a lingering kiss to the curve of your shoulder, his lips warm against your skin.

You exhale as the heat of the moment settles between you as his arms slip around your waist from behind. He pulls you closer, his chest flush against your back as his thumbs idly stroke over the fabric of your dress.

“You know,” he whispers, his tone laced with something dark. “If you wanted me to take this dress off you later, all you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to tease me like this.”

You bite your lip, tilting your head slightly to meet his gaze in the mirror. “And here I thought you liked when I tease you.”

His smirk widens, fingers flexing against your waist before he finally releases you with a reluctant sigh. “You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.”

You turn, smoothing your hands over his silk shirt before adjusting the collar. “Only because I know you’ll play along.”

He chuckles as he shakes his head, and his hands settle at your hips.

“Behave for me tonight,” he says as his thumb brushes over your hip bone, just barely grazing the slit of your dress as he leans in and brings his mouth to your ear. “And then I promise I’ll give you whatever you want when we get back.”

With one final glance, he turns and makes his way out of the bathroom. You take a deep breath and then follow behind him.

You take a seat on the edge of the bed, reaching for the heels that Glen’s stylist had chosen to finish your look for the event. But before you can slip them on, Glen is already in front of you sinking onto one knee. His fingers brush against your ankle as he takes the first heel from your hands.

“Let me,” he says softly, sliding the shoe onto your foot.

His gaze flicks up to yours, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he secures the strap.

You swallow, watching as he repeats the motion with the other shoe, his fingers grazing along the curve of your calf before he finally leans back on his heels.

“Perfect fit, Cinderella.” His voice is warm and rich, with just the hint of something more playful lingering just beneath the surface.

Before you can respond, he pushes himself to his feet in one smooth motion and turns toward the suite’s open closet. He shrugs into the jet black velvet tuxedo jacket, the fabric seemingly molding perfectly to his broad shoulders as he adjusts the cuffs. There’s something about the way he carries himself with an effortless confidence that makes you stare for a second longer than you probably should.

Glen catches you staring. A smirk returns to his lips, slow and smug, and he moves toward you extending a hand. “You ready, sweetheart?”

You place your hand in his, and he helps pull you effortlessly to your feet. You slide your arm through his to ensure you keep your balance as you walk.

“Ready,” you say as you let him start to lead you toward the door.

As the two of you step into the hallway the energy between you changes slightly. The night is only just beginning and yet you already know neither of you will be able to keep your hands off each other.

Glen’s hold on you remains firm yet easy, his fingers brushing lightly over your knuckles as you approach the waiting car once you’re downstairs. The driver moves to open the door, but Glen is a second too quick. He takes a step forward and pulls the door open himself and then extends a hand toward you.

“After you, sweetheart.” His voice is warm, edged with amusement, but there’s something deeper in his gaze as he watches you step forward.

You slide into the plush leather seat, the slit of your dress shifting as you settle, baring nearly the full length of your leg. Glen eases in beside you and pulls the door shut behind him.

The car hums to life, the city lights outside casting fleeting shadows across his sharp features. Glen’s eyes sweep over you, lingering where the gown parts at your upper thigh. A quiet exhale slips from his lips, his palm finding your leg with an easy familiarity. His fingers press lightly as he starts tracing absentminded circles of your skin.

He leans in, the warmth of his breath tickling your ear as he murmurs, “I should tell you to behave tonight…” his voice then drops an octave. “But we both know you won’t.”

A slow knowing smirk tugs at your lips. You turn your head slightly, meeting his gaze beneath the soft glow of the passing streetlights. “I promise not to do anything your PR team will have to handle tomorrow.”

Glen chuckles a deep husky sound that vibrates through the space between you. His fingers tighten slightly against your thigh before he leans back, stretching an arm along the back of the seat.

The air outside the car is filled with electricity as the car pulls into the long procession of sleek black vehicles, each one filled with celebrities and their teams preparing for their turn on the red carpet. Camera flashes flicker in the distance, a chaotic yet dazzling rhythm of cameras waits outside.

Glen’s thumb strokes idly against your thigh, his grip still warm and firm. He glances out the tinted window, his expression easy, but you can tell from the way his fingers tap against your skin that he’s ready to get out of the car.

After several minutes your car inches forward, and it’s finally yours and Glen’s turn. The driver steps out first, moving around to the side of the car facing the red carpet. The door swings open and Glen steps out first. He nods to the driver and thanks him with a polite nod before turning his full attention to you.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he offers you his hand. His fingers close securely around yours, guiding you out with a level of care that makes your pulse race in your veins.

The moment you step onto the carpet a wave of flashing cameras erupt around you. Photographers call Glen’s name, their voices blending with the hum of the event. Glen’s hand slides to your lower back with a possessive warmth that grounds you amid the chaos.

His agent appears from the side, flashing a practiced smile as he steers you both toward the first stop on the carpet. Glen moves effortlessly, but even as the cameras and lights demand his attention, his focus remains on you.

You feel his gaze before you turn your head. When you do turn and meet his gaze his eyes are dark and filled with something you can’t quite pinpoint. He leans in, close enough that only you can hear him. “You’re making it impossible to look at anything but you.”

A smile tugs at your lips. You shift slightly, your hand rising to rest lightly against his chest. His shirt is already unbuttoned at the top two buttons, revealing just enough of his chest hair and the gold necklace he has on.

Your fingers hover over the third button, the pad of your fingertip barely brushing it. To the cameras and anyone watching it looks like you’re simply smoothing out his shirt in a casual gesture. But Glen knows better. His body tenses just slightly, his breath catching for half a second. His gaze sharpens, the ghost of a smirk playing at his lips. But he doesn’t move. He just watches you, waiting to see if you’ll actually do it.

But you don’t. Instead you drag your fingertips over the fabric once more, feigning innocence before resting your hand lower against his stomach.

Glen’s jaw flexes for the briefest moment, but then he regains his composure and slips effortlessly back into that easy charming persona as the cameras flash again.

After the final interviews are done and the last of the camera flashes are snapped you and Glen are guided inside by his manager. Inside the venue, the atmosphere is intimate. Low flickering candlelight from the centerpieces on each table reflect off of the crystal glassware, the quiet hum of conversation blends with the soft notes of the music playing overhead. The gold sequins of your gown catch the light as you settle into your seat beside Glen. His presence is warm and familiar next to you.

His hand finds your thigh almost immediately, fingers resting just beneath the slit of your dress on your thigh. It’s nothing overt or inappropriate, just a familiar touch between partners.

At least, that’s how it starts. Glen is effortlessly charming as he talks with the others at the table. He laughs at a particular joke from someone across from him at the table, engaging in conversation as though he’s completely at ease.

But every so often his fingers tighten against your skin in a slow, possessive squeeze that makes your breath hitch. He plays it cool though, never letting on that his focus is split between the discussion at the table and the slow absentminded circles his thumb is tracing on the inside of your thigh.

You take a slow sip of your wine, the deep red coating your lips. Then you lean in slightly. The movement shifts your dress in a way you know Glen notices, offering the faintest peek at the top of the lace strapless bra you both know is underneath. His hand tightens just barely on your thigh.

Your voice is barely more than a whisper, meant only for him. “You’re awfully quiet tonight, babe. Something distracting you?”

Glen doesn’t answer right away. His expression doesn’t even shift. If someone were watching the two of you right now, they’d see the same composed, award winning smile he’s worn all night.

But under the table his fingers start to slide higher, his touch slow and deliberate, teasing at something for too bold for a setting like this where a camera could be on the two of you at any given moment. Your breath catches and your gaze flicks to him. His eyes are locked on you now, dark with amusement.

And then, just as his fingertips dare to brush higher, just as heat starts to pool low in your stomach…someone at the table calls his name, pulling him back into conversation.

His hand stops its movement, sliding back down just enough to keep things appropriate. But you catch the smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he turns back to the discussion at the table.

The venue is buzzing with excitement as the 2025 Golden Globes officially kicks off. The stage is bathed in warm golden light, the audience a sea of glamorous gowns and sharp tuxedos. Glen sits beside you, one arm draped casually along the back of your chair, his fingers idly tracing the bare skin of your shoulder.

Nikki Glaser takes the stage with ease, her opening monologue sharp and quick witted, sending waves of laughter through the audience as she points out several celebrities in attendance.

You’re sipping from your champagne flute when she suddenly shifts her attention to Glen. “Glen, you were in everything this year…Hit Man, Twisters…my head when I’m having sex with my boyfriend.”

The room erupts into laughter, a mix of surprised gasps and delighted applause. Glen, ever the good sport, flashes a grin and shakes his head slightly as the camera captures his reaction.

You’re laughing too. But then the way he takes it in stride, not letting it fluster him, sparks an idea. As soon as the camera moves away from him you lean in. Close enough that your lips almost brush the shell of his ear.

“Funny,” you murmur, voice low enough for only him to hear. “Because you’re in my head when I’m touching myself.”

Glen inhales sharply through his nose, his jaw tightening. The subtle movement is barely noticeable to anyone else, but you catch it. His fingers twitch against the skin of your back as if resisting the urge to react.

You let the words settle. Then as if nothing happened, you press a soft, lingering kiss to the edge of his jaw, letting your lips brush just enough to make his pulse jump.

To the outside world, it’s nothing more than an affectionate moment between a couple…just you whispering something sweet to your boyfriend before kissing him.

But Glen knows exactly what you’re doing. And judging by the way he exhales again, slow and controlled as he shifts slightly in his seat, you know it’s working.

Satisfied, you smile against his skin before pulling back, returning your attention to the stage as if you hadn’t just began to unravel him with a single sentence.

Nikki’s monologue ends and the applause fades as the first presenters takes the stage. But Glen still hasn’t fully recovered from your whispered confession. You can feel the tension in his body. The way his fingers flex subtly against the back of your chair, his breathing just a little deeper than before.

Then, as the announcer reads off the nominees for the award, Glen leans in. His voice is even, but there’s an edge to it. “I’m gonna hit the restroom,” he murmurs. “You want anything from the bar on my way back?”

You turn to him feigning innocence, and your lips curving into a knowing smirk. “Another glass of champagne would be perfect. Thank you, babe.”

He nods, but just as he stands and steps away from the table you catch it. The quick yet subtle movement of his hand adjusting the front of his dress pants as he disappears into the hallway.

Satisfaction hums through you. You lift your nearly empty flute to your lips, holding your smirk behind the rim as you take another sip as you settle back into your seat.

A few minutes later Glen still hasn’t returned. You glance at the hallway and then back at your table. You politely excuse yourself before slipping into the hallway.

The hallway is a quiet, stark contrast to the hum of conversion and laughter that spilled from the ballroom where the award show was taking place. Your heels click softly against the polished floor as you head to the end of the hallway where the restrooms are.

Just as you reach for the door handle of the ladies’ room, the men’s room door wings open. Glen steps out, his shoulders broad in the jet black tuxedo, his hair slightly mussed like he ran a hand through it in frustration after leaving the ballroom.

But it’s his expression that stops you in your tracks. The way his gaze locks onto you.

You don’t have a moment to even react before his fingers curl around your wrist, and in one fluid motion, he pulls you into the women’s restroom. The door clicks shut behind you, and your back meets the cool wood as Glen presses close. Glen fingers slide the lock into place before his hands brace on either side of you, caging you in. The air crackles between you, thick with everything unspoken.

He leans in, his lips brushing just below your ear as he exhales, his voice low and laced with amusement. “You like driving me insane, don’t you?”

A small smile tugs at your lips before you pull your bottom lip between your teeth. You let your fingers trail down the front of his shirt, hovering just above the third button from the top before smoothing over the fabric.

“Maybe just a little.”

His laugh is quiet but rough as he exhales through his nose. But then he’s kissing you. It’s hungry and impatient, like he’s been waiting all night for this. His hands find your waist, fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress as he deepens the kiss, his body warm against yours.

The sound of footsteps echoes faintly from outside the door, and it’s enough to break the spell. Glen pulls back just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. His breathing is uneven, but there��s a teasing glint still there.

“As much as I’d love to keep going,” he murmurs, “we should probably head back before someone comes looking for us.”

You let out a breathy laugh knowing he’s right. But as Glen takes a step back and you both straighten your clothes like nothing happened, you catch the way Glen’s jaw tightens when he looks at your lips, like he’s still thinking about the way they felt against his.

You’re just starting to catch your breath when Glen’s phone buzzes loudly in his pocket. His expression shifts as he pulls it out and looks at the screen.

“I need to take this,” he murmurs holding a finger to his lips as if warning you to stay quiet.

He takes another step back, answering the call with a curt professional tone. You can barely make out the voice of his agent on the other end, but as Glen’s nodding along his gaze never leaves you.

After a moment, he pulls the phone away from his ear. “Yeah, I’ll be right back in. She had a…wardrobe malfunction,” he smirks as if he’s dealing with a minor inconvenience. “We have it taken care of, no worries. Give me sixty seconds and I’ll be right there.”

Glen looks at you for a beat, his expression softening as he steps closer. “You okay with me heading back in? They need me for something.”

You nod quickly, giving him a smile that’s more genuine and supportive than any of the others you’ve given him tonight. “Thanks for the help with the zipper,” you say, your words thick with playful innuendo.

His lips twitch for just a second. He glances toward the door, and then takes a deep breath.

“Of course. Wouldn’t leave you hanging.” He grins at the subtle double meaning before straightening up and heading back towards the ballroom.

The door clicks shut behind him, and you’re left standing in the ladies’ restroom, an impish smile playing at your lips. Because you both knew this wasn’t the last of your teasing for the night.

Back in the ballroom the atmosphere is still buzzing with excitement. The laughter and clinking of glasses mix with the soft hum of conversations that fill the room. But for you it feels quieter as you settle back into your seat next to Glen.

Glen is quiet for the first few minutes after you return. His hand rests gently on your thigh, his thumb drawing slow absent minded circles over the fabric of your gown. It’s less of a possessive touch than earlier, more like a subtle yet comforting reminder of his presence. His gaze flickers over to you as you sip your champagne, eyes warm with a tenderness that matches the calmness that’s overtaken him.

“Are you okay?” Glen’s voice is low enough that only you hear, almost as if he’s checking in on you after all the teasing that had unfolded throughout the evening.

You nod and offer him a soft smile that’s a mixture of affection and gratitude. “I’m fine just…taking it all in,” you murmur, your hand reaching up to smooth a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

Glen’s smile is small but genuine. He leans in slightly, his lips brushing your temple in the most casual of kisses. The gesture isn’t some public display, it’s just for you. And you know that. It’s a reminder that no matter how much you tease each other, there’s a deeper connection that holds you together.

“Good,” he says softly.

You smile, catching the way his thumb continues to trace along your leg, gentle but firm as he offers you reassurance. Over the next half hour, despite the attention on him like his name being called for several photos or other actors, actresses, and directors finding their way to your table to chat with Glen, he keeps a small part of his focus on you. Whether it’s his arm draped protectively around the back of your chair or his hand on your thigh, there are subtle reminders to you that he’s there.

It’s moments like this, when you truly see a side of Glen that few others do. Even when he’s the confident and playful man everyone else sees, a part of him is still right there with you. He’s attentive and undeniably present as his hand stays on you.

After the award show you step out into the cool night air. The crowd outside the venue is beginning to thin, and the flashing lights of cameras dim as the chaos of the evening starts to subside. The contrast between the glamor of the show and the calm that begins to settle around you is almost surreal.

Glen’s hand is warm on your back as he leads you to the car. His steps are confident and steady. The door to the car is already open when you reach it, and Glen helps you slide in with the kind of gentlemanliness that you’ve come to love in Glen.

The car hums to life and the city lights start to streak past as the vehicle pulls onto the street. Inside the atmosphere is quieter, the tension of the night melting away. For the first time all evening you let your guard down, and lean into Glen’s side. The faint scent of his cologne is mixed with the crisp air coming in from outside where the window is cracked. The air settles around you and you find yourself breathing a little easier.

Glen notices immediately, his arm gently wrapping around you to pull you closer. “You okay, sweetheart?”

He knows how draining these events can be, especially to you who isn’t used to it yet. He’s been through them a thousand times before, but it’s different for you. The flashing cameras, the endless small talk and mingling, the constant attention…it can be overwhelming.

You nod slowly, closing your eyes for just a moment. The exhaustion starts to creep up on you now that the adrenaline has started to wear off. “Just a lot. You know how overwhelming these things can be,” you murmur in a volume that’s just above a whisper as you press yourself a little further into his side, seeking the calm you always seem to find in him.

Glen looks down at you, his expression softening and concern flickering in his eyes. “I can have the driver take us back to the hotel if you want. We don’t have to go to the after party if you’re not feeling it.”

You know his offer is genuine, but you can’t bring yourself to take it. You know how important the after party is for him to network and meet others in the industry. You just need a minute, another moment of peace before facing the chaos again. And then you’ll be okay and ready for the next stop of the night.

Shifting slightly you look up at him, your voice quiet but filled with sincerity. “Just hold me for a minute, yeah?”

It’s simple, but the request means everything. Glen nods without hesitation, a small smile tugging at his lips. He pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you protectively as you settle into his embrace. The car ride, the noise of the night, and the rest of the world all fade into the background as Glen holds you, the steady beat of his heart a grounding presence beneath your cheek.

For a moment there’s no red carpet, no cameras, no crowds. Just the two of you in the quiet of the car, sharing something far more intimate than anything the public could ever see.

The after party is a completely different world. The buzz of excitement from the award show has transformed into an electric energy that fills the entire venue. The music is loud and pulses through the air. The space is alive, full of laughter, clinking glasses, and filled with well dressed guests mingling.

Glen stays close to you, his presence steady by your side as you navigate the crowd. He talks to a few people, exchanging polite words with other actors, producers, and directors. But his eyes are constantly flicking back to you.

He’s aware of the ever watchful eyes around you both. The buzz from the whirlwind year he had in 2024 has left the media and the fans hungry for any new details about him. Add in the fact that your relationship is still fresh enough to be interesting, and it’s like you’re a constant topic of conversation in any room you’re in.

You catch him glancing at you every so often, a quiet smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It’s like a silent agreement between the two of you. You’re here for the networking that Glen’s manager wants him to do, but neither of you can quite keep your focus entirely on anything other than each other.

At one point you stand at the edge of the dance floor,and Glen’s gaze shifts as the beat of the music picks up. Without a word he takes your hand, his fingers curling around yours. He gently tugs you toward the center of the floor, and you follow, your heart picking up its pace as you leave the edge of the room behind.

Once you're in the midst of the dancing crowd, Glen’s hand slides to your lower back, pulling you closer until your bodies are nearly pressed together. The heat from his touch sends an immediate rush of warmth through you. The proximity makes everything feel heightened, every brush of his skin against yours sending sparks of electricity through you.

His lips hover near your ear, his voice low and suggestive as he speaks, just loud enough to be heard over the music. “You look so damn good tonight, baby.”

His mouth is still near your ear, and his next words are even more suggestive, a whisper that sends a chill down your spine. “You’re killing me, you know that? Every time you touch me, I feel like I’m about to lose control.” His breath is warm against your skin, the words almost a promise, a warning.

The subtle shift in his touch sends a thrill through you, your own body responding to the heat building between the two of you. You lean into him and feel the hard press of his chest against yours, and you can’t help but push back against him just a little, teasing him with every move.

Each time you “accidentally” brush against him, his grip tightens. The pressure on your lower back sharpens, his hands now bold as they slide around your waist. The energy between you two builds with each passing second, like an unspoken game that neither of you wants to end.

The music continues to pulse around you, bodies swaying in the dim light, the room alive with energy. But all you can focus on is Glen. You lean into him, the warmth of his body a steady presence behind you. His hands find their place on your hips, holding you close, his fingers brushing over the fabric of your dress. The closeness feels intoxicating.

With a playful smirk, you decide to test the limits. You spin in his arms, your back now pressed against his chest. The action is fluid, and before you know it you’re tucked into him, your head resting against his chest.

You can feel his breath catch, his body stiffening for just a moment. His lips hover near your ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. The press of his body against yours becomes undeniable now. There’s no mistaking what’s happening. His tuxedo pants tighten at the front, a subtle shift that makes you smirk to yourself. Because you know exactly what you’re doing to him.

Your fingers reach up behind you and graze over the hair at the nape of his neck, barely brushing the collar of his shirt as your lips curve into a mischievous grin. You stay like that for a moment, enjoying the power you have over him, the way his breath quickens, how his grip on you tightens just slightly as if trying to control himself.

But then, just as you’re about to lean in and whisper something playful back, his voice comes out low and commanding, the heat in it unmistakable. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

Glen doesn’t give you a moment to respond, his hand gently but firmly pressing against your lower back as he guides you through the crowd. His touch feels urgent, yet controlled. You can feel the eyes around you, the whispers of the people still enjoying the party, but none of it matters. All that matters is the man beside you guiding you toward the exit.

When you reach the doors, Glen’s hand slips to the small of your back, urging you forward. You glance up at him, heart pounding, his expression a perfect mix of hunger and determination. Without a word, he opens the car door and helps you inside, his hand still lingering on your waist as he follows you in. The moment the door closes behind you, the tension that had been building throughout the night snaps.

Before you can fully settle into your seat, Glen is already there, his lips crashing against yours with a desperation that leaves you breathless. It's fierce, unrestrained, and everything you’ve been craving since the moment you stepped into that ballroom. His hand moves to cradle your jaw, holding you firmly in place, while the other slides under the hem of your dress, fingers curling against the soft skin of your thigh, dangerously close to where you ache for him.

The world outside the car window blurs into streaks of light as you lose yourself in him. You reach up, your fingers running through his hair, the length just long enough for you to tug. And you do, you tug enough to draw a deep, guttural groan from his throat. His body presses into yours, every inch of him impossibly close.

But just as the kiss deepens, Glen pulls back, his breath ragged against your lips. His eyes, dark with desire, search yours, his voice rough, thick with need. “Think you can last until we get to the hotel?”

You smile, that teasing spark in your eyes. “I don’t know...you seem a little impatient right now.”

The air between you crackles with the raw, undeniable tension. His thumb brushes over your lower lip as if trying to memorize the feel of you, his gaze never leaving yours.

“You have no idea,” he mutters under his breath, leaning back in for another kiss, but this time, he’s taking it slow, savoring every moment before the storm that’s clearly coming.

Glen leans forward, his movement smooth and deliberate, and taps the control panel between you and the driver. His voice is low, almost too calm as he says, “Raise the partition.”

You watch as the tinted glass slides up, cutting you off from the rest of the world. It’s just the two of you now, a world of your own where nothing exists but the heat between you and the air thick with unspoken promises.

His hands return to you almost immediately, his fingers grazing the zipper of your gown with a quiet, assured touch. The movement sends a rush of warmth through you, and for a split second, doubt flickers across your mind. You pull away, just enough to catch your breath, unsure about what Glen’s suggesting.

His lips brush against your ear, and the soft whisper of his words cuts through the haze. “Windows are tinted. Partition’s up. No one can see you but me, promise, baby.”

You can feel your pulse quicken, and your heart skips a beat. You bite your lip, torn between desire and hesitation. “But what about the driver? What if he hears?”

Glen’s chuckle rumbles against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. His thumb gently strokes your hip through the fabric, his touch somehow soothing and electrifying at the same time. “He’s got an NDA. Even if he hears anything, he legally can’t say a damn word.”

He leans back slightly watching you with that infuriatingly confident smirk, the one that says he knows exactly what you’re thinking. “But if you’re worried about that...guess you’ll just have to be quiet.”

His words hang in the air between you, daring you to give in. There’s no turning back now, and the space in the backseat of the SUV seems to close in around you. You know you want this, want him…right here, right now.

The final wall inside you crumbles, and before you can second guess yourself, your hands are on him. You pull him closer, your lips crashing against his in a kiss that burns with the intensity of everything you’ve been holding back all evening. Glen smiles against your lips, that cocky grin of his still there even as he feels the shift in you. His hands move with practiced ease, the zipper of your dress sliding down a few inches under his touch.

His lips leave yours, but the loss of contact is only brief. Glen’s mouth moves to your jaw, his breath hot against your skin as his lips trail downward, sending a shiver through you. You tilt your head back to give him more access, and in that instant he pulls the bodice of your dress down, exposing the black lace beneath.

You gasp at the sudden exposure, the cool air against your skin a stark contrast to the heat between you. Glen takes a slow breath, eyes dark with want as he gazes at you, drinking in the sight. His hands, so sure, push the dress further down, his fingertips grazing the sensitive skin at the top of your chest, making you bite your lip to keep from letting out a sound as his hands squeeze you through the cups of the lingerie.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his voice low and raw, his hands reverently tracing the curves of your body as if memorizing every inch of you. His eyes flicker between your face and your exposed skin, his desire evident.

His lips return to your skin, his kisses slow and deliberate, as if savoring every reaction he draws from you. The ache between your legs deepens, the pressure unbearable as Glen’s touch continues to tease and tantalize.

You can’t hold back the soft whimper that escapes your lips, the sound a mixture of need and frustration. Glen hears it and smirks, a knowing look flashing across his face as his fingers slide higher, moving up the slit of your dress, where you’re aching for him most.

His touch is slow and deliberate, and it drives you wild. The heat between you builds, and as his fingers reach the spot you crave, you bite down on your lip to stifle a moan. He’s tormenting you, and you’re helpless to stop it. The way his fingers move, his touch just shy of where you need him most, makes you feel like you’re losing control.

As if sensing your desperation, Glen’s hand shifts, pressing firmly against the little bundle of nerves where you ache for him most. A gasp escapes your throat, the tension inside you winding tighter with every passing second. You feel yourself melt against him, lost in the sensation, every inch of your skin burning under his touch.

At the same time, your hands move with urgency, your fingers reaching for the buttons of his silk shirt. One by one, you undo them, your breath shallow and erratic as the anticipation builds between you. Each button undone is like a countdown to the inevitable moment when you’ll finally have him, just as he has you.

His lips brush against your ear, his voice a low rasp as he watches you, his fingers never faltering in their pursuit of your pleasure.

"God, I love you, baby," he murmurs again, and the words send a shiver down your spine, making the ache between your legs even more unbearable.

Your hands roam down his chest, fingertips grazing over warm, newly exposed skin. The contrast of soft silk against hard muscle makes your breath hitch, and without thinking, your nails dig in just enough to get a reaction out of him. Glen groans, his head tipping back slightly, the sound deep and raw, sending a thrill through your body.

Emboldened, you let your hands wander lower, reaching for his belt, but before you can undo it, Glen’s hand catches yours. His grip is firm but gentle, his thumb stroking over the back of your hand as he gives you a look that sends a new wave of heat pooling in your stomach.

"I want you to give me one first," he murmurs, his voice rough, filled with quiet command.

Your breath stutters as his fingers move faster, his touch growing more insistent, purposeful. A shiver rolls through you as realization dawns, your body tensing in response. Glen’s gaze softens, sensing your hesitation.

He leans in, his lips brushing against your cheek, trailing toward your ear. "Just let go," he whispers, coaxing, encouraging. "I’ve got you, baby."

The knot in your stomach tightens, the tension coiling like a wire ready to snap. Your fingers clutch at his shoulders, your nails pressing into his skin as you try to steady yourself against the mounting pleasure. Glen’s touch is relentless now, and you can feel yourself slipping further, the world around you fading until the only thing that exists is him. His hands, his voice, the way he’s completely unraveling you.

You close your eyes, surrendering to the sensation, to the way he makes you feel utterly weightless and lost all at once. And then it snaps. Your orgasm washes over you. Glen is right there, coaxing you through it as your hips move against his fingers. His voice is a low murmur of praise and reassurance, grounding you even as you come undone in his fingers. Your body shudders, fingers clutching at his open shirt, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

Just as you begin to regain control, Glen withdraws his fingers, his eyes locked onto yours as he brings them to his mouth, his lips wrapping around them to taste you. A satisfied hum vibrates in his throat, and the sight alone sends another rush of heat pooling in your core.

Your hands fumble with his belt, fingers shaking slightly as you undo the button of his pants. Glen shifts beneath you, helping as much as he can while his own hands remain possessive on your hips. When you finally free him, wrapping your hand around him, his breath hitches, and his grip tightens.

"Fuck," he exhales, his head tipping back against the seat for a moment before his gaze darkens, zeroing in on you.

With a teasing smirk, you shift, straddling his lap, the fabric of your dress pooling around you. One of Glen’s hands moves to your waist, guiding you as you position yourself over him. The other reaches up and pulls the lace of your underwear to the side.

Then as you sink down, a soft moan slips from your lips at the delicious stretch, Glen’s grip on your hips tightening as he exhales a sharp curse.

His head rolls back against the sat, his breath warm and uneven. "You’re gonna be the death of me," he rasps, voice filled with both adoration and hunger.

The air in the car is thick, charged with heat and longing, the rhythm between you and Glen pushing you both closer to that inevitable breaking point. His grip on your hips tightens, guiding you as your breaths tangle in the small space between you.

And then it happens. That tension inside you snaps, the knot in your stomach unraveling as a wave of pleasure crashes over you, leaving you breathless. Glen isn’t far behind, his movements growing erratic as a low, guttural groan leaves his lips. His hands grip you tighter for just a moment before he stills, his chest heaving against yours as the last remnants of pleasure pulse through both of you.

For a while, neither of you move. The only sound in the car is the heavy mix of your breaths and the faint distant hum of the city just beyond the glass. Your forehead drops to his shoulder, your body still trembling slightly in the aftermath. Glen’s head is still rolled back against the seat, his fingers tracing absentminded circles on your hips, grounding you both in the quiet.

His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, holding you as if you might disappear if he lets go. The heat of the moment fades into something softer, something deeper. You can feel his heartbeat beneath your palm, steady and strong, mirroring the way he makes you feel.

"You okay?" he murmurs after a beat, his voice rough, but there’s something tender in the way he asks.

You nod against him, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. "Yeah," you breathe. "You?"

His lips press against your temple, lingering there for a moment. "Never better."

Neither of you rush to move, to pull away. Instead, you stay wrapped in the quiet, in the warmth of each other, savoring this moment that feels entirely your own.

As the rush of the moment fades, you shift in Glen’s lap, still catching your breath. That’s when you feel it. The cool brush of air conditioning against your lower back. Your brows furrow as you reach behind you, fingers grazing over the fabric of your dress…The zipper. Or rather, the complete and utter lack of one.

Your head snaps up. "Oh my God."

Glen who’s still recovering with his head tilted back against the seat, lifts his chin at the alarm in your voice.

His lazy grin fades the second he sees your expression. "What?"

You turn slightly, trying to get a better look, and that’s when he sees it. The once seamless zipper now split wide open, the expensive fabric pooling loosely around your waist, revealing the lace underneath.

Glen blinks. Then drags a hand down his face. "Shit."

A beat of silence.

Then, his lips twitch. "Babe—"

You groan, dropping your head against his shoulder. "Tell me you did not just rip a designer dress."

His chest shakes with a quiet laugh. "Okay, I won’t tell you."

You smack his arm. "Glen!"

He winces but doesn’t even try to hide the smirk tugging at his lips. “In my defense, you looked really, really good in it."

You lift your head to glare at him, but his boyish grin makes it impossible to be truly mad. He exhales a guilty chuckle, eyes scanning the damage before shaking his head. “Yeah, that’s…that’s not fixable.”

Another groan leaves your lips as you sit back, attempting to gather the fabric around you. “What am I supposed to do? Walk through the hotel lobby like this?”

Glen doesn’t hesitate. He shrugs off his suit jacket and carefully slides it onto your shoulders, his fingers brushing your arms as he adjusts it into place. The warmth of it, the scent of his cologne, wraps around you instantly. He lingers for a second, his hands resting against your arms as his eyes flick over you. He then buttons the jacket up in the front to cover the front of you since without the zipper you run the risk of people seeing both the front and back of you.

“There,” he murmurs, his voice softer now. “No one’s gonna see a thing.”

You then become acutely aware of just how thoroughly wrecked you both look. The lipstick smudged at the corner of his mouth, the way his once styled hair is a mess from where your fingers had been in it. And of course the disaster that is your dress.

You reach up, swiping the smudge of lipstick from the corner of his mouth with your thumb, and he lets you, his gaze locked on yours.

“You’re a mess,” you tease, smoothing down his shirt where it had bunched up.

He smirks then rolls his shoulders to straighten up. “So are you.”

“We should…probably fix ourselves,” you say, already reaching up to run your fingers through your hair, trying to smooth it down.

Glen huffs out a low chuckle, tilting his head back against the seat. “Yeah, probably.”

He moves to button his pants back up first, then starts redoing the buttons of his shirt, though his movements are slower, lazier like he isn’t in a rush at all. You catch the way his fingers fumble slightly, and without thinking you reach over, taking over the task of smoothing the fabric and fastening the last few buttons for him.

His gaze flickers up to yours, something softer in his expression now. You don’t acknowledge it, just keep working, pretending like your fingers aren’t slightly trembling from everything that just happened. As you finish, you notice his hair is a complete mess from where your hands had been tangled in it earlier. With a quiet hum, you reach up, smoothing the ends of his hair back into place.

Glen watches you the whole time. Then, just as you start to pull your hand away, he leans into your touch, just for a second, eyes half-lidded.

A slow smirk tugs at his lips. “I’m that much of a wreck, huh?”

You shake your head, lips twitching. “A little bit.”

He huffs a laugh and rolls his shoulders, like that’ll somehow make him look more put together. “Well, you’re no better, sweetheart.”

You scoff, but before you can fire back, the car slows, the city lights outside flashing across Glen’s face as you near the hotel. His smirk fades just slightly, his eyes scanning the entrance ahead. His hand finds yours, squeezing gently.

“You good to make a run for it?” he asks, voice low.

You let out a breathy laugh. “I don’t think I have much of a choice.”

Glen smiles that same playful, heart melting grin, and without missing a beat, he leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Stick close to me, baby,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.”

And just like that, he’s back to being your Southern gentleman. Even after all that just transpired in the backseat, his priority is making sure you feel safe, covered, and comfortable.

The car eases to a stop, and before the driver can even step out, Glen is already moving, one hand reaching for the door handle, the other finding yours. He squeezes your fingers gently before slipping out, standing tall as he subtly scans the entrance for any wandering eyes. Then, with practiced ease, he turns, offering you his hand with a smirk that’s all charm, all Glen.

“Come on, baby. Let’s get you inside before we cause another scene.”

Glen keeps a firm arm wrapped around you as he helps you inside, his tux jacket draped over your shoulders, shielding you from any further wardrobe malfunctions. His grip is steady, protective, and despite the teasing glint in his eyes, there’s an unspoken possessiveness in the way he holds you close.

The hotel lobby is dimly lit, elegant, but you barely register it. Your focus is on Glen. The solid warmth of him against you, the subtle flex of his muscles beneath your fingers as you clutch onto his shirt. He walks with confidence, guiding you past the check in desk and toward the elevators, ignoring the way the night staff sneaks curious glances your way.

When you reach the elevator, Glen reaches out and presses the button with his free hand, keeping you tucked against his side. The silver doors slide open, and the moment you step inside, the tension crackles back to life. The doors close, and before you can take a breath Glen moves.

His hands are on you again. They’re fast, desperate, but never rough. He presses you gently but firmly against the cool metal wall, one hand tilting your chin up just as his lips crash against yours. The kiss is hungry and all consuming, reigniting the fire that had barely simmered down.

You gasp against his lips, your hands flying to his chest, gripping the collar of his shirt. His breath is hot and uneven as he kisses you deeper, his tongue sweeping against yours with a level of skill that leaves you lightheaded.

Then his lips trail lower, ghosting over your jaw, down the side of your neck.

His voice is low, rough against your skin. “Think you’ve got enough energy left for one more round?”

A smirk tugs at your lips as you tug him closer, fingers curling tighter in his shirt. You let your lips graze his, teasing. “With you? Always.”

Glen exhales sharply, his grip tightening on you. Just as his hand slips beneath the jacket, tracing the curve of your waist with slow deliberate intent, the elevator dings.

Your floor. The doors begin to slide open. Glen barely pulls back, his forehead resting against yours as his chest rises and falls, his smirk a little breathless.

“Guess we’ll have to pick this up inside,” he murmurs.

You bite your lip, eyes locked onto his as you slide your hand down, lacing your fingers with his. “What are you waiting for, then?”

Glen doesn’t let go of your hand as he leads you down the quiet hotel hallway, his stride purposeful, filled with anticipation. You can still feel the imprint of his hands on your skin, the way his lips had moved against yours in the elevator just moments ago, leaving you breathless and wanting.

The tension between you is electric, a live wire humming with energy, ready to spark the second you’re alone again.

Reaching your room, Glen presses you against the door for just a moment, his hands resting on your waist as he leans in, his voice a husky whisper. “Last chance to back out.”

You smirk, eyes locked onto his as you slide the key card from his hand, the smooth plastic cool between your fingers. “Not a chance, babe.”

A low chuckle rumbles in his chest, but before he can respond, you swipe the key card and push the door open. The moment it clicks shut behind you both, Glen’s hands are on you again, his lips grazing your ear as he murmurs, “Good. Because I’m nowhere near done with you.”

#Glen Powell #Glen Powell RPF #Glen Powell x Reader #Glen Powell x You

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nexternalknowsthingz · 3 days ago

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Heya everyone, I have some not so great news. I am (for now) quitting Tumblr. I’m not sure if this is a permanent thing or temporary but I just need a break. I’m unsure if anyone has been able to tell but with my art as of late I’ve been.. lacking. Motivation has been kicking my ass. I just can’t find joy in it anymore.. and as much as I had fun with drawing my valentines gift it was such a struggle to even get it done (I almost didn’t.) I feel like my art has been de-improving while everyone else has been doing well. And I know it’s not fair of me to say that but it’s just really hard posting when you feel so down about your art. I love the outsiders with all my heart but I just haven’t been in it.. for awhile and o think it really shows.

I’ve met some amazing people on here, some of the most kind and supportive people I’ve ever met. I’ve met my best friends @alaskan-aurora , @jasmine145946 , @redfielddoesthings and even more but i just don’t really have it in myself atleast right now, to continue art. You all have been so kind to me, when I’ve felt down you’ve always picked me back up and I’ve always felt so so loved by you guys. Some of you have been looking at my art since I’ve started this account, I love those people so much. and even those who maybe just found my account, I love you too. I think I would’ve quiet along time ago if it weren’t for you.

I’m so sorry that I never finished that one musical drawing of the full cast. I truly truly wanted to but I just couldn’t. And I know some of you could be thinking “couldn’t and didn’t are different things.” And you’re right! I couldn’t *and* didn’t. I just couldn’t find it in me to. I hope you aren’t disappointed or mad at me, and if you are, I really am sorry.

Onto.. more happy notes, most of you have been here for some of my most monumental moments. Just a few being the outsiders movie poster, the outsiders musical playbill, and the outsiders movie cast photo ( <— if you were here for the cast photo.. holy shit I love you, cause that was an OLD drawing lmao) I’ll put my most favorite drawings down below just for a nostalgia moment.

I’m not sure if I’m going to deep into this goodbye, I know I wasn’t anyone’s like.. favorite artist or even a big popular one but I still want you ALL to know just how much I love you! (Btw sorry if this sounds like a depressing note.. I’m okay, I just wanna be like- professional ish about this.?)

I’ll go through some of my (personal) monumental art moments just.. because!

August 25, 2024

My first drawing that got 100+ notes on it 😭 I genuinely cried when I saw the support for this drawing

(Just so yall know! This is a two part post, so.. if yall really wanna read this whole thing it’ll be below this post 🩵)

#the outsiders #artwork #art #nexternalknowsthingz #thingz news #I love yall #with all my heart #quitting post

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abbottfansstuff · 19 hours ago

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The What Ifs

Author's Note: Writing has always served as my personal therapy. It's the kind where I don’t need to pay someone to hear me out. Seeing this person unleashed emotions that I thought I had neatly packed away and labeled as “resolved.” As always, thank you for reading! Y'all come get the tea: @schemmentigfs & @rosie6reyes

It was one of those moments where you just knew you had to act on impulse. The idea had popped into your head out of nowhere: a surprise trip back home to visit your parents. You’d been so caught up in work lately that it felt like ages since you spent quality time with them. And with their anniversary coming up, you figured—why not? A spontaneous visit, a small surprise barbecue for their anniversary, and a week spent catching up sounded perfect.

So, without much planning, you packed your bags and booked a last-minute flight, eager to give your mom and dad the surprise of a lifetime. You weren’t entirely sure how they’d react, but you knew they’d be thrilled.

The next afternoon, after you’d had a few hours of sleep and caught up with your parents, you and your mom set out to grab the essentials for the barbecue. The Florida sun was shining, the air was warm, and the whole vibe felt effortless—like home.

As you pushed the cart through the parking lot after picking up the last of the supplies, your mind was still buzzing with plans for the celebration. That’s when you heard your mom’s voice.

"No way! What a coincidence!" she suddenly exclaimed, stopping dead in her tracks.

You looked up, confused, but your mom was already walking toward someone across the parking lot, her face lighting up.

"Oh shit… Melissa," you muttered to yourself, still not sure you were seeing things.

Then, as if on cue, Melissa turned, her eyes immediately landing on your mom. The recognition was instant. She smiled, her face lighting up as she moved toward you both.

"Y/N?!" she exclaimed, pausing for a brief moment before closing the distance between you two with a hug.

You couldn’t stop the surprise from showing on your face. It had been years—almost eight, in fact. And yet, standing in front of you was Melissa, looking as confident and polished as you remembered. She was still dressed as impeccably as ever. Yet you were wearing short shorts, a T-shirt, and flip-flops.

You took a moment to absorb the surprise. “Wow, Melissa... it’s been so long,” you said, still blinking in disbelief.

Melissa gave you a small, teasing smile. “Yeah, it really has. What is it, 8 years? I didn’t expect to see you. Your mom didn’t tell me you were planning a trip.”

Your mom smiled at Melissa, her eyes lighting up as she spoke. “She actually just showed up around 4 am. We had no idea she was coming. She came for me and Mark’s anniversary. She is so spontaneous.”

Melissa smiled, looking at you. “Oh, I remember.”

Your mom continued, “I was actually planning on sending you a text later on tonight to invite you to the barbecue that Y/N is hosting for me and Mark’s anniversary tomorrow. We’d love to have you there!”

Melissa laughed, looking between you and your mom with an amused grin. “Well, I don’t know how I can say no to that!” she said, her tone warm and teasing. “Count me in! What do you want me to bring?”

Finally, you spoke up and said, “There’s no need for you to bring anything! I’ve got pretty much everything covered. It’ll be a small gathering, so you don’t need to worry.”

Your mom, nodding, agreed.

You added, “Will you be bringing anyone? Just want to know the headcount,” and laughed.

Melissa looked straight into your eyes and said, “No, I’m not bringing anyone. Just me and my dog,” and laughed.

After that, your mom and Melissa said their goodbyes and gave each other a small hug. Then Melissa turned to you and offered a hug of her own.

“I’m really looking forward to the barbecue now. It’ll be nice to catch up,” she said after pulling away.

Still, the same perfume… was all you could think about at that moment.

—---

As you settled in for the night, you replayed the events of the day in your mind. The surprise encounter with Melissa, her confident smile, and that familiar scent—everything felt so surreal. It was like no time had passed since the last time you'd seen her. But as you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, your mind drifted back to a different time—the last time you worked closely with her.

The memory quickly shifts to when you were around 21 years old, just finishing up your unofficial 6-month internship at the law firm. Your mom had assigned you to work directly under Melissa for most of the time, and you’d spent hours together managing paperwork.

You had a lot of respect for Melissa—she was sharp, professional, and incredibly skilled at what she did. And over those months, you couldn’t help but develop a slight crush on her. It wasn’t anything you acted on—it was just a quiet, lingering thing, more about admiration than anything else.

There was one moment, in particular, that stood out in your mind: You had been driving Melissa to one of her court hearings. Parking near the courthouse was always a nightmare, so it was easier for you to drop her off right by the entrance, then find parking and catch up with her inside.

The drive was long, and Melissa was dressed in a sharp suit, her pencil skirt just short enough to catch your eye now and then. As she shifted in her seat, it was hard to focus on anything but the proximity of her legs—every movement made your attention wander. You tried to keep your eyes on the road, but every time she adjusted herself, you couldn’t help but glance her way.

Her legs crossed, and the hem of her skirt rode up just enough to give you a view of her smooth thigh, inches away. You could feel your heart race, trying not to let your gaze linger too long. The whole situation was way more distracting than you'd planned.

Melissa must've noticed your discomfort because her voice broke through the silence in a teasing tone. “You alright, Y/N? You look a little... distracted.”

You panicked for a second, quickly trying to mask your thoughts. “Oh, yeah... just nervous about the case,” you muttered, hoping she wouldn’t press further.

She chuckled softly, her eyes flicking toward you, and laughed, saying, “Well, get it together girl.. I am freaking out too and we cannot have two people freaking out.”

—----

After the court appearance, you’d both grabbed lunch together at a nearby café. You’d mostly talked about work. But at some point, the conversation shifted.

Melissa asked casually, “So, are you single, Y/N?” She sipped her drink, her gaze neutral, but there was a softness to her tone like she genuinely cared about your answer.

You felt your cheeks flush slightly. “Yeah, I'm still single. Haven’t really had time to meet anyone lately with all the work and schooling,” you said, shrugging it off.

She nodded thoughtfully before smiling at you. "I’m actually the same way," she said, her tone shifting slightly. "In fact, I don’t date men at all. I’m... well, I’m gay.”

You blinked, unsure of where the conversation was headed.

The rest of the lunch passed by in a blur as the conversation shifted back to work, but that moment stayed with you. Melissa had opened up in a way that made you admire her even more. You couldn’t help but think how difficult it must’ve been for her to reveal something so personal, but at the same time, it made you feel a little closer to her.

—---

After that lunch, you and Melissa started spending more time together outside of work. During the workday, you would hang out during lunch, chatting about everything and nothing—work, life, movies, whatever was on your mind. You’d grown accustomed to her teasing smile, the way she could shift between being a confident professional and someone who was surprisingly easy to talk to. There was a familiarity now, a comfort between you that made the time you spent together feel effortless.

It was a weekend that really stirred things up. You had heard Melissa mention a club she was going to with some friends on Saturday night—she’d said it so casually as if it was just another night out, but it stuck with you. You knew she went there frequently, and you figured if there was ever a chance to spend some more time with her, this was it.

You weren’t the type to go to clubs often, but you were determined to take the opportunity. You convinced your group of friends to join you, making up some excuse about how you just felt like having a good time that night. Deep down, though, you knew exactly why you were going. The plan was simple: go to the club, find Melissa, and maybe—just maybe—get a chance to talk to her in a completely different environment.

When you got to the club, it was buzzing with energy, the music loud enough to feel it in your chest. You scanned the crowd, your heart racing a little as you tried to spot her. It wasn’t long before you saw her standing near the bar with a group of friends, looking effortlessly cool in her black leather jacket and skinny jeans. She looked... different, somehow—more relaxed, more herself. You realized then that you had never seen this side of her before, the side that didn’t wear a suit or focus on work but just let loose. You pushed through the crowd toward her, trying to act casual, but your heart was pounding in your chest.

When she saw you, her face lit up. “Y/N!” she called over the music, clearly surprised to see you there. “What are you doing here?”

You smiled, trying to seem nonchalant. “I could ask you the same thing. My friends and I decided to check out the scene. Looks like we have the same taste in places,” you said, chuckling nervously.

Her eyes twinkled as she gave you a playful look. “Well, I guess we do,” she said, her voice teasing. “Are you here with anyone special?”

You shook your head. “Nah, just a group of friends. What about you?” you asked, hoping the question didn’t sound too forward.

She shrugged, a smile playing on her lips. “Just out with the crew. Nothing special.”

You felt a slight sense of relief. This wasn’t a big deal. But even as you spoke to her, you couldn’t ignore the fact that it was still hard to separate the attraction you felt for her from the ease of your friendship. You tried not to let your feelings show, but every time she smiled or laughed, it was impossible not to feel something more.

At one point during the night, Melissa leaned closer to you, her voice just above a whisper, “I need someone to watch my back,” she said with a playful grin. Without missing a beat, you both ended up dancing together—close, letting the music take over. The rhythm of the club and the heat of the crowd made it easy to forget the world outside.

It was more than just dancing. There was a lot of grinding and touching, and it was hard to keep track of where the music ended and where your bodies began. The chemistry between you was undeniable, and as you danced, your bodies moved in sync, caught up in the moment. Every touch seemed to make the tension between you both feel more real and for a moment, you wondered how long you could keep this act up before something shifted.

—----

After that night at the club, things seemed to change between you and Melissa magically. Every other weekend, you somehow "bumped into each other"—like it was a total coincidence. Because, of course, it’s totally normal to show up at the same place at the same time without planning it, right? You’d both just happen to be there, her teasing smile and playful eyes the perfect indicators that this wasn’t some well-constructed plan.

Totally unplanned, definitely.

One night, the music was louder than ever, and the club was packed. You and Melissa found each other at the bar again, the usual routine of grabbing drinks to loosen up before the dancing started. You could already feel the electricity between you, the way she glanced at you with that knowing smile, the way she would touch your arm whenever she made a joke or shared a funny story.

As the night wore on, you both found yourselves on the dance floor again. The music seemed to wrap itself around the two of you, pulling you closer as you both moved to the rhythm. The space between you shrinking with every song. You could feel her body next to yours, the heat from the crowd adding to the intensity. The last time you danced, there had been a lot of teasing and joking, but tonight felt different. There was something heavier about the way you moved, something almost inevitable about the way your bodies seemed to gravitate toward each other.

Melissa’s eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, everything else in the club faded away. The noise, the lights, the people—none of it seemed to matter anymore. It was just the two of you, dancing closer than before, every brush of her body against yours making your pulse race. She leaned in, her breath warm against your ear. "You always know how to make it fun," she murmured, sending a shiver down your spine.

You leaned in just slightly, your lips brushing her ear as you spoke. "It's not hard when I’m with you."

The tension in the air thickened, and in that moment, something inside you snapped. Without saying another word, you took the chance. You closed the gap between you two, your lips finding hers in a kiss that started soft but quickly deepened with the heat of the moment. The crowd around you, the loud music, everything disappeared as you gave in to the feeling. It was slow at first, hesitant like you both were trying to gauge the moment, but soon, it turned into something more urgent.

You could feel her hands on your back, pulling you closer. You let your hands slide to her waist, the connection intensifying with every second. The world around you faded even further as your kiss deepened, and for a long, blissful moment, it was just the two of you, lost in the rhythm of your kiss and the pulse of the music.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, and your heart was pounding in your chest. Melissa looked at you, her lips swollen from the kiss, her eyes wide with something you couldn’t quite read.

It wasn’t a romance—it was fun, lighthearted, and casual. The chemistry was undeniable, but neither of you ever pushed it past that.

—----

A few weeks after the last club night, your mom called you into her office to discuss a work-related assignment. “I need you to go on this trip with Melissa,” she said, looking over some documents on her desk. “We’re interviewing candidates for those new positions in the offices in Atlanta. We are flying them to Atlanta. Melissa will need your help.”

The trip itself was hectic. There were long meetings, interviews with candidates, and a tight schedule to maintain. But as the days went by, the intensity of your time together began to shift. Away from the usual office environment, you both started to unwind in a way that felt more personal and intimate. In between work, there were shared meals, spontaneous conversations that drifted far from anything professional, and those moments—small but charged—where your eyes lingered just a little longer than they should have.

One night, after a long day of interviews, you both retreated to your hotel rooms, exhausted but still carrying a subtle tension that had been building all week. You had gone to bed early, but a knock at your door interrupted your thoughts.

You opened the door to find Melissa standing there, holding a bottle of wine. Her eyes were softer than usual, and her smile, though still warm, carried a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before. “I was thinking… maybe we could share this,” she said with a playful tone, but there was something deeper in the way she looked at you. Something unspoken.

You stepped aside, letting her in. She settled beside you on the bed, the bottle of wine between you. Conversation flowed easily, and for the first time in a while, it felt like you could both just be—no work, no expectations. Just two people sharing a quiet moment, letting their guard down.

As the night wore on, the energy between you shifted. The playful banter between you faded into something more intimate. There was an unspoken connection in the air that neither of you could ignore. The walls you had built between each other were starting to crumble, piece by piece.

And then, there it was. The look. It lingered between you, a blend of curiosity and hesitation. Melissa’s gaze dropped to your lips, and for a fleeting moment, everything else disappeared. The distance between you seemed to shrink, and the weight of your shared history filled the space between you.

Before you knew it, you were leaning toward her, the tension between you palpable. Her breath hitched as your lips met, tentative at first, as if neither of you wanted to cross the line fully.

But then it deepened—passionate, urgent—as though your bodies were remembering something you hadn’t realized you missed. She moved closer, her hands finding their way to your neck, pulling you in with an intensity that matched the emotions swirling between you. You could feel the heat between you rising, the shared history, the unspoken words, everything coiling together in this one charged moment. Her lips parted against yours, and in that instant, everything else seemed to fade into the background.

You found yourself responding, almost instinctively, your hands tracing the curve of her waist, pulling her closer, the urgency building between you. The kiss grew hotter, more desperate, as you moved on instinct, losing yourselves in each other. As your hands roamed, you felt her body tense, a small, almost imperceptible gasp escaping her. The contact was electric, the pressure mounting, and before you knew it, your fingers traced the edge of her shirt, sliding underneath. The air between you felt thick with anticipation, the moment on the verge of something more. But just as quickly, the intensity seemed to snap.

She pulled back, her breath coming in shallow gasps, her eyes wide with a mix of longing and uncertainty. She sat up, visibly shaken, her chest rising and falling with every breath. You followed her lead, unsure of what to say or do, the weight of the moment pressing down on you both.

The silence stretched between you, thick with everything that had just happened, everything left unspoken. The room felt heavy with the intensity of what you had shared, and yet neither of you moved.

The night ended quietly, but the tension hung in the air like a lingering question, unanswered and unresolved. But it was undeniable now—the bond between you had shifted.

What had been unspoken before was now clear.

The following day, you both returned to work, professionally, as if nothing had happened. Yet, the weight of what had passed between you was impossible to ignore. It was clear that something had shifted—something important—but the complexity of your feelings would have to be dealt with later.

That later never came….

------

As time went on, you moved forward, leaving behind the city where everything had once felt alive. New opportunities, new faces, and new places came into your life, but none of it ever felt quite like it had back then. A few months after the move, you had some friends visiting. Drinks flowed, laughter filled the air, but one conversation stuck with you long after the night ended.

One of your friends mentioned a recent chat with Melissa at the club. "She seemed so happy at first," your friend said. "But then… she said something that kind of struck me."

You felt your stomach tighten, a sinking feeling that something was about to shift.

"She told me she was too old to be feeling those giddy feelings," your friend continued. "She said she’d started her career too late, and now she needed to focus. No time for distractions, she said."

It hit you hard. It wasn’t about you. Was it? Melissa had her reasons. You had yours. You both had drifted into different lives, different paths, carrying the weight of your own choices—choices that no longer left room for the same kind of connection.

And yet, you couldn’t shake the memory of that night—the way her lips felt against yours, the way the tension between you both had crackled, the way it almost became something more. But now, the truth seemed clear: She was focused on a different future, one that didn’t involve you in the same way.

You had your path to follow. And maybe that was the way things were meant to be.

------

Here you are in your childhood room, lying awake, staring at the familiar ceiling, with a heart full of unspoken words. You always told yourself you’d put it all behind you—that everything that happened with Melissa would be just that, something in the past. But she always held a special place in your life, and no matter how hard you tried, there was no erasing that.

Now, as the night stretches on, you wait for tomorrow, wondering if, just maybe, the story wasn’t over after all.

Maybe she is your biggest ‘what if.’

#abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti

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anulomufa · 3 days ago

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I only started following hockey a couple of months ago, but somehow I made it to yesterday's Canada vs. USA game in person. It still feels kind of surreal, so here’s everything I remember from that game:

People were shouting “Go Canada Go!” on the street outside the Bell Centre while waiting for the gate to open. On the escalator to upper levels too. I’ve never seen an audience so pumped up before a hockey game.

I entered Centre Bell through a less busy side door and went straight down to watch the warm-up, securing a first-row spot behind the net. Just like in the first Canada vs. Sweden game, the lower level was completely full by the time warm-up started.

Because of my first-row spot, I witnessed Nathan MacKinnon take a puck to the face right in front of my eyes.

That was the moment I realized “oh no things are not going very well”, especially with Cale Makar already out for this game.

As usual, Mitch was the last one off the ice, he traded a puck for candy (Mitch, always the gift-giver). Brad Marchand patiently waited for him at the player entrance. They had a fist bump before exiting.

The Canadian national anthem was the loudest I’ve ever heard. It gave me goosebumps and I’m not even Canadian.

Before the puck drop, I saw the third line (the Bolts line) on the ice and was like “Wait what why”. Then the fight started so I was like “Ohh okay sure”. And then the second fight started, and again I was like “Wait what why”. By the third fight I was like “Okay but isn’t this a bit much” but I took out my phone and filmed it.

After the fights I thought it was obviously too much. You could feel the adrenaline both on and off the ice overflowing. The speed of the game was crazy and I wondered how they could possibly keep this up for 60 minutes.

The McDavid goal. I saw someone describe McDavid’s skating in the first game as “the space/time continuum actually bending around him”. It was accurate. And he doesn’t tuck his jersey into his equipment, so it always flutters like a flag in the wind as he cuts through the center.

The Guentzel-Matthews-JHughes line was terrifying. Matthews was strong defensively. Guentzel was ruthless.

Jordan Binnington didn’t receive nearly as much hate at Centre Bell as he does online. In fact, after several of his good saves, people around my section started chanting “Binnington! Binnington!” I also don’t think he’s the one to blame for the loss. Canada felt more more out-coached than out-goalied. He also leaves the net a lot to play the puck, which I think is interesting because it feels like the “sweeper-keeper” in soccer.

Toward the end of the game Team Canada swapped McDavid and MacKinnon, so there were several shifts where 87-97 and 29-16 played together. There were also a few Crosby-McDavid-MacKinnon shifts. I saw some comments aying Nate didn’t look as sharp and I'd still blame the puck that hit him in the face. What do you mean one of those creatures of routine had to miss half of warm-up.

Since I went to the game alone, my friend texted me “Be safe” after the loss. But the streets were actually pretty quiet, almost peaceful. The only sound was the crunch of winter boots underfoot as snow fell gently, shimmering on the ground. Ahead of me were two guys wearing Team Canada jerseys—one McDavid, the other MacKinnon. And I think there was something poetic about that scene.

#4 nations face off #4 nations lb #four nations #4nfo #team canada #Connor McDavid #Nathan MacKinnon #Mitch Marner #jordan binnington

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miraclechatbug · 2 days ago

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I just read an analysis of the episode by @mamayura, and honestly, it's incredibly insightful and accurate. It also makes everything a thousand times more heartbreaking because Adrien knows exactly what he wants, and it’s something very simple. He just wants to be with Nathalie and Marinette.

However, throughout the entire episode— and even before that, Nathalie has kept Adrien at arm’s length. She’s afraid to care for him the way she truly wants to, a struggle she’s faced constantly, even when he was a child, as shown in the flashbacks. She has always loved him and longed to show him more affection.

However, she’s terrified of replacing Emilie, it probably even feels like a betrayal even though it was Emilie's last wish. It's all too much to put on Nathalie, and of course, she's indecisive about it. That’s why she holds back from showing Adrien the love she so clearly feels for him, even though it’s obvious to everyone how much she adores him. But as clear as it is to others, it might not be to Adrien. He knows she cares for him, but does she care enough to step up and be a mother to him? Nathalie has rarely taken that kind of initiative, so he can’t bring himself to ask such a thing of her.

Adrien is wise beyond his years. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again— he is the most emotionally intelligent and self-aware person in the show, (so is Luka, though in a different way). Because Adrien understands emotions so well, even though he’s never had any real control over his own life, he does know what he wants. He wants to stay with the people he considers family— Nathalie, Marinette, The Gorilla. But he won’t say it aloud, not even when given the chance, because he needs undeniable proof that he is wanted first place.

Just like he never truly forced his father. Yes, he constantly sought Gabriel’s time and attention, and every time he was pushed away, you could see how much it devasted him. And he learned from that. Just like he learned from Ladybug, after she pushed him away time and time again. You cannot force people to love you if they don’t want you. It has to be their choice.

And in that moment, every adult in that room, except Marinette, had to make their decision before Adrien could even be allowed to speak. That is utterly tragic. It’s horrifying. I can’t even begin to imagine what it would feel like to watch strangers argue over who should take custody of me while the one person I truly wanted wasn’t even in the room, wasn't even making an effort for him. And the worst part of it all... is that he didn’t fight it. Not even a little protest. He had already resigned himself to whatever was happening.

Adrien didn’t say anything because he knew he couldn’t. Because, deep down, he truly believed that what he had to say wouldn’t matter. It never had before.

Until Marinette. She’s the one who always thinks about him, who turns toward him instead of away. Especially in the Werepapas episode— she stops, looks back, and asks him what he wants. No one else ever does that (except Plagg). She wants to see him happy, and she makes him happy. I would love to see more of that.

I think Adrien has always felt voiceless when it comes to his own desires. He’s spent his whole life pushing aside what he wants, always making space for others, always tiptoeing around the emotions of the adults around him. When, in reality, those burdens were never his, and will never be his to carry. They should have shielded him from their anger, worries, and indecision, figured things out first, and only come to him when they had something real to offer. Instead, they fought over him like he was a prize to be claimed.

I would love to see him finally wishing for things— choosing for himself, being selfish for once. He deserves that.

Watching Werepapas has made me realize how little control Adrien thinks he has over his life. His grandparents are literally fighting over their guardian rights over him, and he is under the table, concerned about Plagg, and not paying attention in the slightest. Marinette, Nathalie, and The Gorilla were all more upset and worried than he was. Or at least, they showed more emotion.

And honestly, that's so concerning. How little control and choice must someone have over their life to react this way? In the end, when they finally ask him what he wants... he says he doesn't know himself. He's happy to let Marinette make the decision for him, and it's obvious that he wants Marinette wants for him, it's obvious to everyone except him.

He never voices out loud what he wants, such as how obviously he wants Nathalie to hug him back and show him affection at the beginning of his episode. And his shirt was so wrinkled! I think he's struggling more than ever, but he's so good at acting that he's fine– he's so well put together. I fear he doesn't even know how much he's struggling himself. He constantly says he doesn't know how he's feeling himself, which means he is very disconnected with his emotions. People who are very repressed say such things, people who never had chances to explore their feelings themselves, never got the freedom or choice to express themselves. Adrien doesn’t voice his wants, not because they don’t exist, but because he’s never been given the space to acknowledge them. The moment he does, he risks confronting just how deeply he craves something he believes he can’t have. So, he keeps moving, keeps smiling, keeps convincing everyone— himself included, that he’s fine.

It's a learned habit, a defense mechanism. People who have always been told what to feel, or who have been given no room to feel at all, probably end up like this– adrift and unsure of where their own emotions begin or end. It’s repression at its most insidious.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous s6 spoilers #werepapas spoilers #adrien agreste #ml ladybug #miraculous #adrien #ml werepapas

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707heart · 1 day ago

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Sebastian or Harvey with someone who's really shy? If that's alright!

hey! this is my first time writing in second-person so it might sound a little cray lol. i hope you enjoyed this! also i wrote abt sebastian because i have never romanced harvey </3

sebastian x shy farmer

wc: 761

You clutched the edges of your formal outfit. You had never liked parties. The noise, the chaos. You suppose this is why you spend so much time at the farm, doing the work that needs to be done. It made a good distraction from actually speaking to the people in the town.

Your best friend, Maru, dragged you through the crowds of people in introduction. It was nothing short of overwhelming, your breathing picking up.

“I need a break,” you said. Maru must have saw the look of horror on your face, because she let you go, making up some excuse to the group before excitedly asking Marnie about her chickens.

Walking to the edge of the clearing in the forest, you spot a figure resting against one of the trees, cigarette in mouth. Once his dark eyes met yours, he was waiting for you to get closer. He had a smile pasted on his face, cig hanging between his lips.

“Wasn’t expecting you to show up. You look really nice,” Sebastian said, offering you his cigarette like he always did. You waved it off like you always did.

You were in no state to talk, too ravaged by all of the socialization you had just been put through. Still, his company was soothing in a way.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asked, nudging your shoulder gently.

“Oh! Yeah, just a little overwhelmed,” you mumbled.

Sebastian hummed, taking one final drag before stomping out the cigarette with his polished black boots. It was rare to see him in this sot of getup. You were used to the black hoodie and ripped denim jeans.

“I get it. Me too. I always loiter here at parties,” Sebastian replied, turning to you and smiling gently. It was a smile that had only been reserved for you lately, and you were enjoying the attention.

Still, Sebastian flirting with you sometimes made you feel like a hermit crab without a shell. You flushed, turning away. He looked back toward the crowd.

“You know, you could always be my dance partner. I mean, since we have to do the stupid dance anyway,” Sebastian shrugged, raising an eyebrow at you.

Internally, you screamed. Sebastian asking you to be his partner?

Your skin felt hot, your outfit suddenly feeling a lot tighter. He turned to you. “What do you say?” he asked, raking his eyes over you in a way that made you light up.

—

After the dance, the crowd began to trickle out. Going in front of everyone was kind of a nightmare, but you got through it by maintaining eye contact with Sebastian. Falling into those eyes was easy.

Sebastian stood next to you, the sun setting off of the forest cliff. Slowly, his pinky interlocked with yours. Then the index, then middle, and soon your hands were funny intertwined. He squeezed tight.

“I’ve really liked spending time with you, you know,” Sebastian murmured, lips dangerously close to your ear. “You make good company.”

“I think you’re the first person to say that about me,” you replied with a nervous smile. You drummed up the courage to face him, squeezing his hand.

Sebastian laughed, shaking his head. “I think people just don’t know you very well. But I do,” he said, reaching to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “And I like what I know.”

You blinked up at him, letting out a deep breath that you didn’t know you were holding. Sebastian took your free hand, setting it on his chest. “Do you want me to kiss you?” he asked, a shyness of his own manifesting in his voice. You were close now, closer than the two of you had ever been.

You nodded, nipping at your bottom lip in anticipation. Your heart was rattling in your chest, rapidly pumping blood through your body in a way that made your head spin. The hand that was touching your hair moved to your jawline.

Slowly, he leaned down to press your lips together. You felt the cool metal of his lip piercing meet your skin. He reached up to hold your hand that was lying on his chest, pressing it further into the material of his shirt.

He laughed against your lips, kissing your cheek. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he mumbled against the skin there. “Even when I thought you hated me at first, I wanted to.”

It made you laugh and gently whack his chest. “I told you I get nervous!” you said, leaning up to chase him for another kiss.

#stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley #sdv #stardew valley fanfiction #stardew sebastian #sdv sebastian #sebastian x farmer #shy!reader #flower dance #fanfiction #fanfic

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luthorswildflowers · 3 days ago

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Lost love is sweeter when it's finally found

It was their reconciliation after everything with Lex and Leviathan that seemed to give Lena the courage to come out to Kara. She had been closeted for so much of her life that the idea of letting someone in past her walls had felt insane if not impossible. But Kara proved her wrong again, and Lena finally decided that this box would remain open, and she would embrace this feeling head on.

Her queerness was not the only secret she had wanted to concede to the blonde that evening, standing aloft on the Tower balcony together as the sun settled low over the city. This was one of those evenings, where the tenderness of their friendship seemed to pull at something more. They stood quietly together, their elbows touching as they gazed out over the sky beyond them. Lena could only focus on the quiet breath of her “best friend”, her heart hammering in her chest as she realized this was the time to lay herself bare. She had never felt so safe in her life. She was enveloped by warmth from a family that she had to remind herself that she deserved. And Kara was at the forefront of it all, her sunny disposition and bright, bright kindness that wrapped itself around Lena’s heart.

Lena had known for a long time that she was in love with Kara Danvers. It had just taken the pain of heartbreak and the fear of losing the one person she loved most for her to realize that she couldn’t go on any longer without Kara in her life somehow. When Lex had shown his true colors, Lena had known then that she was making a huge mistake, and she would fight until her heart shattered to get back that warmth in her life.

It had worked out eventually, they had taken down Lex together, sending him to somewhere unreachable where he could never hurt Lena, or anyone ever again. Finally, free from one of her lifelong torments, Lena had realized that she was free from that fear too. And it was that first night back together with Kara and their friends that had pushed Lena to decide that she was done letting her fear drive her actions.

As they stood on the balcony together, Lena took the plunge and dared to let her heart win out.

Just as she inhaled heavily to begin her confession, Kara turned towards her, eyes locked on her own questionably.

“Lena, what’s up?”

Lena exhaled dramatically, pulling her eyes away to gaze out towards the city again. “I wanted to talk to you about something,” she began, twisting her fingers together nervously. Her stomach flipped suddenly before she pushed her trepidation down and continued on. “It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while now actually.”

Kara rested her hand gently on Lena’s arm. “Is something wrong? Are you ok?” she asked, a bite of concern in her voice.

“No nothing, like that. I just needed to – well I just want to say something, and we’ve promised to be honest with each other now since everything happened. And I don’t want to lie to you or keep things – or I mean secrets from you anymore but umm, but –” Lena sighed heavily, throwing her hands up and spinning away from Kara. “God, I didn’t realize it would be this hard.”

Kara’s hands were on her shoulders, pulling gently until Lena turned back around. Lena looked up hesitantly into Kara’s eyes, calming slightly at the reassurance she saw in them.

“Whatever it is you can tell me. I’m here.”

Lena reached out for Kara’s hands, clutching onto her tightly as she breathed in slowly. She was thankful for Kara in that moment, the blonde seemed to have a second sense about her, knowing how to ease those around her with her confidence and consideration. Lena was drawn to it, and she tried to let the feeling embolden her.

“I want to. I really do.” Her heart still thundered nervously, and Lena noticed Kara’s quick glance to her chest as she picked up on the sound. Lena breathed deeply, her shoulders falling downwards as she stared at their joined hands. “I’m just scared,” she continued shakily. “So much has changed between us in the last year. I don’t want us to fall back to where we were before – before Lex. But I want to tell you because – well I trust you.”

Lena still wouldn’t meet Kara’s eyes, but she squeezed her hand tightly, hoping to convey what she was trying to say. Kara squeezed back and dipped her head to catch Lena’s eye.

“Lena. I promise, whatever you have to tell me, it won’t change anything between us.”

Lena chuckled at that, even more aware of what she was trying to say. The desire to tell Kara her other secret was not as strong as her desire to come out. Though she supposed that secret could be revealed in time. Hopefully.

“You might be eating those words in a moment,” she muttered.

Kara cocked her head at that, crinkling her brow in that cute way that Lena liked.

Heaving in a deep breath Lena fortified herself, squeezing Kara’s hands again. “I’m gay.” she said, spewing the words out in one breath. “I didn’t really know for the longest time. I guess I suppressed it before. I mean, I felt different growing up and you know my family isn’t the most welcoming. But being – gay – it just wasn’t even something I thought about or even considered. It wasn’t allowed. But a lot has changed and now when I think about it, it makes so much sense.”

She glanced down again and slammed her eyes shut. They were growing tight behind her eyelids as she took measured breaths.

Suddenly, she felt warm arms wrap around her shoulders and pull her forward gently. Falling into Kara’s embrace was as easy as waking to a morning sunrise. It felt natural and familiar, and she clung on tight as she welcomed the feeling.

“Oh Lena,” Kara said, hugging her as tightly as she could without crushing her. “Thank you for telling me and for feeling safe enough with me to share your truth.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. It took me some time to figure out. I haven’t told anyone else.”

“I’m glad you told me,” Kara said, squeezing her a bit tighter.

She buried her face on Kara’s neck, realizing that she was shaking slightly. She focused on breathing, and the two of them were silent for a few moments, easily settling into the familiarity of one another.

“What are you thinking?” Kara whispered eventually.

Lena sighed, pulling back a step to wipe the wetness from her eyes. “I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “I mean I was expecting you to ask questions, but I guess considering who you are and who your friends are, you have been through this before.”

“Do you want me to ask questions?”

“I mean, maybe? I’m not sure exactly. This is just all so new.”

Kara grabbed Lena’s hand again squeezing it reassuringly. “It’s ok to still feel nervous about all of this. I think I understand how you are feeling. You feel like you don’t know who you are anymore. Like you should still feel guilty for feeling this way. That maybe you might be wrong because it took you so long to figure it out. Something like that?”

Staring into Kara’s eyes, Lena nodded faintly, her face heating up at how true Kara’s words were.

“I thought you would think I was lying because I was with James so recently. It’s partly why I ended things with him. It didn’t feel real. Most of my life hasn’t felt real to be honest. I felt like something was wrong with me, almost as if I couldn’t feel things correctly or fully. Love never really made sense to me. Not until…” she trailed off at that, thinking about how she had finally come to this realization.

“How did you know?” Kara asked gently.

She breathed out all in a rush, pursing her lips slightly as she tried to put it all into words.

“Everything changed this last year. I’ve never felt so – so vulnerable with Lex around. You and I were on bad terms, and I was alone for the first time in a long time. I had a lot of time to think about myself. Also, Andrea was back and that brought up a lot of unresolved feelings from our youth. Her betrayal hurt me more than I realized, and I don’t know – it’s just –” she faltered, feeling breathless. “I think I loved her once…”

Her voice was strained, and she tried desperately to swallow down a sob. The pain from Andrea’s betrayal had lessened to a degree but her recent realization brought with it a new ache that she was still working to understand.

“Hey, hey Lena. It’s alright. You are not alone here.”

Lena nodded, closing her eyes and leaning into Kara again, who easily swept her up into another hug.

“Losing someone you love; that’s one of the hardest things to live through. Realizing you love them after it’s too late is even harder.”

“You say that as if you have experience,” Lena murmured into her shoulder.

Kara was silent for a moment. Lena could feel Kara’s fingers playing with the fabric of her blouse, clumsily rolling the cloth back and forth as she tried to stammer out a reply.

Lena pulled back softly, looking into her bright blue eyes. “You really understand then?”

When Kara didn’t reply right away, the gears in Lena’s head started turning, and hope flared in her heart so brightly it almost burned. Kara looked like she was warring with herself in her mind. She had a desperate kind of look on her face, as if she were fighting the urge to say something.

“Kara, how much of this conversation is you empathizing with me versus you relating to me?” she asked hesitantly.

Voice quivering, all Kara could say was “Lena.” And how she said it was like the word alone was the most precious thing imaginable. Something so tender and delicate you must hold it in your hands with the most reverent of touches. Something you cherish with a steadfast duty to protect above all else.

Kara said her name like a prayer.

She said her name as if she were in love.

Their breath seemed to mingle together with how close they had gotten. Lena pushed forward just a bit more until their foreheads were pressed together.

“Please, say something darling.”

Shaking her head slightly, Kara didn’t pull away. “I don’t want to make this about me. You were sharing something so intimate with me and I don’t want to take that away from you.”

“Please, Kara.” Lena said breathily. “Please don’t hide from me. You never need to hide yourself from me ever.”

A silence so long yet so short stretched between them, but Lena couldn’t take her eyes away from the woman before her. No matter how hard she tried, her heart belonged to Kara.

Finally, Kara broke the silence. “Do you think it’s ever too late to remedy our mistakes? Is it ever too late to tell someone that you love them?”

“We’ve both made mistakes. Sometimes you have to let go of the past and meet the future head on. Sometimes it takes losing what you love most to realize the truth.”

“And what’s the truth Lena?”

At the beginning of this night, Lena had only intended to share one of her secrets with her best friend. Now her heart was screaming at her to share her most precious secret. And Lena would be damned if she tried to lie to herself any longer.

“I love you Kara Zor-El. I have always loved you.”

Kara was pulling her in before she had finished speaking. The press of Kara’s lips to hers was everything. Kara kissed her with what felt like all the affection and devotion she could, wrapping Lena in the most gentle of embraces as they deepened their kiss. Soon, the soft press of lips became ardent, more urgent and heated as they melted into one another. Lena clung to Kara as tightly as she could, arms warping around her shoulders and fingers tangling in blonde hair.

Pulling back slightly, noses still touching, Kara paused for a moment, a huge grin spread across her pretty face. “I love you too Lena. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

Lena pushed forward again, sweeping Kara up into another kiss. Kara’s hands quickly found her waist, squeezing gently as their lips tried to share every bit of devotion words could not. Small whimpers escaped Kara’s mouth and Lena couldn’t help but smile giddily into the kiss.

They clung to each other like that for a while, sharing kisses filled with more emotion than Lena thought possible. And it almost felt as if they were making up for lost time. Time spent draped in resentment and sorrow that they were just now learning how to shake from their hearts. She pressed her hips into Kara’s, leaving no space between them. Hands wandered as both of them explored this new feeling. Soon all Lena could think about was the feeling of Kara against her, the warmth that bloomed in her chest and the heat that started to pool in her belly.

Hesitantly, Lena pulled back, still clinging to Kara as she took a moment to catch her breath. Kara’s eyes were still closed, and Lena giggled at the blissful look on her face. The blonde opened her eyes and grinned, scratching her fingers up Lena’s back where her hands had unwittingly wandered.

“Hi,” she said as goosebumps erupted across her back and shoulders.

Kara smirked lightly, pressing forward once more with a soft kiss. “Hi there,” she said, pulling back enough to rest their foreheads together.

“You know, I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.” Lena whispered.

“Me too,” Kara admitted. “And I don’t know about you, but I really don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”

Lena’s heart thudded wildly in her chest. Looking down at the organ in question, Kara placed a gentle hand there, feeling the rhythm as it beat loudly. Her touch was solid and steady, and Lena leaned into it. There was no going back. And she honestly didn’t want to.

“I don’t think I could survive without you in my life. I’ve never felt something like this before. You, me, together. It feels real, Kara. I want to try being “us” again. I want to see if we could be more.”

Her feet left the ground as Kara wrapped her arms gently around Lena’s waist. They were hovering off the floor, Kara’s strength more than enough to hold them both aloft. The sun had set below the horizon and the lights from the city twinkled around them in the cool evening breeze. Lena nestled her head into Kara’s neck, breathing in the warm scent that could only belong to the woman she loved.

“Forever,” Kara whispered into her hair. “Until the last star of the last galaxy in the universe fizzles into dust, I will love you forever.”

AO3

#supercorp fanfic #supercorp #lena luthor #kara danvers #supergirl #this is my first time posting a fic to tumblr #this is how I'd imagine Lena would come out to Kara #set sometime after season 5 completely ignoring season 6 in its entirety

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witchygagirlwrites · 2 days ago

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Not The Flu

Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Halstead Sister Reader (Nicknamed Dizzy)

Your Brothers find out about you and Mouse in a very big way

You woke up and could feel Mouse’s arms around your waist. His face was tucked down into the bend of your neck, his warm breath teasing the skin with every light exhale. You loved nothing more than the mornings you got to wake up slowly in his arms, neither of you having to rush off to work or you having to rush off because Jess was having an emergency at the studio.

You felt him shift and his breathing changed before his lips brushed against your bare shoulder “Morning D” you grinned “Good morning Greg” his lips followed the path down your shoulder until he got to your collarbone then he gently shifted you over to your back. You smiled when you looked up into those sky blue eyes “I love waking up with you” you whispered, your heart aching to tell him you loved him.

You’d known you were in love with him for a while. There was no way to not fall in love with a man like Greg Gerwitz. He was kind and gentle when the situation called for it but was protective as hell when it was needed.

This man had gone through hell at your brother’s side and was the reason you still had him. He’d pulled himself out of PTSD fueled addiction and made it to the other side. He was everything you’d ever wanted just hadn’t realized until one night in a bar had placed him in your path.

“Where ya go Dizzy?” he asked and you realized you were currently just lying there staring up at him “Just thinking how glad I am you came to that gig” he grinned “Nowhere near as glad as I am baby” and crashed his lips against yours.

Mouse walked into the twenty first and heard his phone ding with a text. When he opened it there was a message from you. He cut his eyes up to make sure Jay wasn’t around then swiped it. It was clear Jess had sent the message because it was a photo of you, curled up in a chair in the corner of Jess’ office and the message read Must you wear her out when we have artists coming in???

He laughed and texted back Hey, that’s on her. I told her she needed sleep he started up the stairs and Jess texted back You two are sickeningly adorable Says the girl dating Dizzy’s brother? He replied and she sent back CASUALLY! I gotta go. I’m gonna wake sleeping beauty BYEEE

He loved you but damn your friends were insane. He’d known he was in love with you for a while. It was probably a couple weeks in, you were at his place. You were wearing one of his old shirts, sitting on his counter and eating ice cream. Your hair was a mess and you were humming the bars of one of your band's songs. He’d never seen a more gorgeous sight.

He’d been keeping his mouth shut to not scare you. He’d prefer Jay actually know you two were together first. It was hard keeping such a secret from his best friend but you asked him to and he’d do just about anything you asked of him.

He got to the palm scanner and laid his hand down. The gate popped so he grabbed it then headed up. He had to get his mind on work.

“Sweets, are you sure you’re good?” Tyler asked, eyeing the fact that you were just poking at the caesar salad you ordered. Normally that was one of your favorites for lunch. “I don’t know Ty. I’ve been feeling like shit, Jess keeps teasing that Greg wore me out but he makes sure I get plenty of sleep. It’s kind of annoying at times the length that man goes to just to make sure I’m taking care of myself”

Tyler grinned “I like him for it but on a serious note Callian had the flu a couple weeks ago. Sounds like you may be trying to get it. Might warrant a stop by Med. Would suck to get a bigger artist in the studio just for you to be contagious” You rolled your eyes “Thanks for the concern for my health there Ty!”

He laughed “That too of course Halstead” and you shook your head “I’ll run by and see how busy they are”

_________________________

You laid back on the bed in an exam room. April had come in and taken like six vials of blood per Connor’s orders and Maggie had come in with juice and a pack of crackers when you told her you hadn’t been able to eat lunch. “I feel like this is special treatment” you told her and she smiled “It is. You’re the youngest and favorite Halstead” you grinned “Thanks Mags”

You were just waiting for the door to come swinging open and your oldest brother to come barreling in, demanding what was wrong with you. For now you were half asleep.

_________________________

Will walked through the E.D. and his eyes flickered towards the board and landed on his own last name. What were you doing here? “Maggie, why’s Dizzy here?” she nodded towards Connor “Rhodes is her doc. Her results should be back. Ask him Will, I’m handling twenty different things”

Will walked over to Connor who passed him your chart “Here, I haven’t even looked yet. I’m going into exam two. Don’t go in without me so I don’t get in trouble for it” Will opened your chart and his eyes flew across the results then landed on the findings. You were pregnant.

Who got you pregnant? He turned to head to your room but stopped at the door when he heard you talking. “I’m ok Greg, really” Greg? MOUSE. THAT SON OF A BITCH.

He turned and tossed your chart on the counter then ran to grab his jacket. Him and Jay would kill the son of a bitch.

_______________________

You heard a knock at the door and sat up “Yeah” Connor walked in and looked confused “Will hasn’t come in?” you shook your head “I haven’t seen him” his face scrunched in confusion “I figured he would’ve told you, be here to support you and all after he read your chart”

“Told me what Connor?” you asked and he shrugged “You don’t have the flu. You’re pregnant” Oh fuck. If Will read it and came to talk to you, he heard you talking to Mouse.

“Shit Connor I gotta go. I’ll come back for discharge papers” “Why?” he asked as you grabbed your jacket and keys “To make sure I don’t raise this child alone because my brothers killed its father”

Mouse was in the tech room, fixing a set of broken coms when Jay and Will came storming in. “Jay?” he barely got his name out of his mouth before he was being snatched to his feet and slammed against the wall by his best friend. “YOU’VE BEEN FUCKING MY LITTLE SISTER!”

“Jay..I..” he tried but Jay cut him off “SHUT THE FUCK UP!” “Leave him alone!” all three men looked towards the doorway to see you standing there, a bit winded and on the verge of tears. “She’s pregnant Mouse” Will told him and Mouse looked from your brothers to you “You’re pregnant?”

You nodded “I just found out” tears forming in your eyes. He could’ve cared less about Jay and Will threatening him. You were there, visibility upset and now knowing you were carrying his child? “Baby please calm down. It’ll be ok” he spoke softly to you. He saw your hands shaking so he cut his eyes back at Jay “Fucking kick my ass if you’ve got to and get it over with. You’re stressing Dizzy”

_______________________

You watched Jay loosen his grip on Mouse then turn to look at you “Dizzy?” you felt tears slip down your face “Please don’t fight with him Jay. He wanted to tell you from the start. I asked him not to” his shoulders sagged and he let Mouse go.

Mouse immediately crossed the floor to pull you into his arms. “Baby are you ok?” He asked and you nodded “Are you” Jay looked from you to him “Diz..why not just tell me?”

You turned in Mouse's arms to look at him “He's your best friend Jay. He means a lot to you. You mean a lot to him. I don't want to be what breaks that but I love him Jay” Mouse's arms tensed and you realized what you said.

You slowly turned back to look at him and a smile slipped onto his face “You love me?” “I have for a while Greg” you whispered and he leaned down to brush a gentle kiss against your lips, having forgotten your brothers “I love you too Dizzy”

Jay and Will both cleared their throats so you broke apart and turned to face them. They both still looked angry but slightly less “Don't hurt her. Be there for my niece or nephew” Jay spoke low and Mouse nodded “Of course”

“We will still kill you and make it look like an accident” you laughed at Will's words but Mouse just grinned “Thanks for that Will”

Jay shook his head “I guess I'm ok with it” then it was like a thought hit him. His eyes widened in horror “IT WAS DIZZY!” You hid your face in Mouse's chest and felt him shake with laughter “In my defense you didn't knock”

“OH I AM NOT DEALING WITH THIS RIGHT NOW” Jay looked at you “I love you. I'm ok with you two and the baby but no just no. And I'm installing chain locks at both of your places” he turned to storm out and Will looked confused “What did I miss?”

Mouse grinned at you before saying “You don't wanna know” then pressed another kiss to your lips “I love you” “I love you too Greg”

@desimarie12

#greg mouse gerwitz x reader #greg gerwitz drabble #greg gerwitz x reader #mouse gerwitz x reader #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd fic #chicago pd fanfic #greggerwitz x reader

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redcoralpot · 2 days ago

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Hiii!!! I’ve seen that you’re slow w writing and I don’t mean to nag or rush you at all but I just wanted to know if you’re still going to be/planning on updating smudged ?

Smudged Chapter Eight - Is it Effort?

Chapter Summary: You and Rodrick work on the final touches of your projects in his room, not that work stops you from messing with him.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1.1K

“How have you ever managed to pass middle school?” You rolled your eyes, raising your eyebrow at where Rodrick was perched on the floor, markers and pencils scattered around him.

He scoffed, “Pure coolness, uh, how’d you think I did it?”

You spun lazily on a nearby chair because God knows you wanted to avoid sitting on Rodrick’s, of all people’s, bed. It’d been a week since you set off with the two biggest, and one sweetest, dumbass into the forest to fail at any sort of prolificacy. Your own project sat half-finished on the desk in front of you, along with abandoned scissors and colored construction paper. The birds outside the window sang tunes as the sun prepared to exit the sky, some sweet and others a little annoying, but the days were getting notably shorter. A sigh here, a shrug there, and you started to chip back at your project again.

“Coolness? Yeah, right, maybe los–” The final word caught on your tongue, and it struck you how much that made you sound like Heather. Fuck, that made you cringe. But if Rodrick even got a whiff that you were feeling pity for him, he’d never let you forget it.

“Maybe by making teachers lose their shit.”

Rodrick scribbled glue onto the back of a photo, and when he stuck it on, the corners immediately sprung back, “That’s practically a synonym to what I just said!”

“Woah, there, sweetcheeks. That’s a big word,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your lips like venom, or perhaps honey to a guy like Rodrick.

He sat up on his elbows and turned around to stick his tongue at you. By doing so, you got a good glance at what he’d just stuck on his project, a sight that made you stand up in offense and lean over him, “Dude, what the fuck? That’s my best photo– at least glue it on right so it doesn’t fly off and get trampled on in the hallway.”

“Uh,” Rodrick stared up at you, lips wet and slightly parted before finding their way into an indignant sneer, “who says I’m driving to school on time?”

“Ah, that’s right! It’ll get violently abused in the back of your van, much better.”

You knelt down and picked up a marker. The feeling of your binder cutting into your skin, something that will definitely leave a bright red line on your stomach by tonight, made you frown. But still, you persisted, and lodged the end of the marker in between your molars before tugging hard. It opened with a pop, the lid still stuck between your teeth while you signed the photo as quick as the lightning doodles Rodrick had drawn on the margins. Oh, yeah, those aggravating cursive lessons in elementary school sure came in handy now.

Spitting the cap onto the smelly, stained carpet underneath Rodrick, you tossed the marker in his direction, which unfortunately ended with a streak of black on his cheek before it actually landed in his hands. You chuckled at the sight, and even more so at his gaping jaw.

“Consider it a souvenir to remember me by after your teacher takes your ass to detention, cornball.”

Rodrick scowled, “How do you have a better signature than me, an actual, very real, very awesome rockstar?”

“Guess.”

He rolled his eyes, whining, “It always circles back to school with you.”

“It sounds like somebody’s catching on! Welcome to real life, we’re so pumped to have you.”

Squeals and banging footsteps echoed from downstairs, a sure sign that Greg and Rowley were home from terrorizing the neighborhood in one way or another. You kind of hoped Greg hadn’t and wouldn’t pick up on Rodrick’s old treatment of Heather, because you took notice of the way his ears went all red when Holly looked his way. Yes, that’s right, you thought. Old treatment. Despite Heather’s continuous offstandish behavior whenever Rodrick came over to your house, as was her right, he no longer threw infamous jokes her way, nor did he stare in the direction of her room. It was a tad bit weird having him be so focused– at least for him– on a school project.

Hell, you were a little proud.

Rodrick reached towards his cheeks, and you instinctively curled your lip and turned away in preparation for the dirty move he was about to pull, the one he knew never failed to make you queasy. But instead of pulling down his bottom eyelids, Rodrick loudly exclaimed, “Ugh– aw, damn it! Why didn’t you tell me my eyeliner leaked?”

You glanced towards him and a snicker bubbled up from deep in your chest. A decently large smudge that matched the one on his cheek sat on his fingertips, “Yeah, you got a little… marker.”

The gesture to your own face made him scowl.

“Fuck you. Ten times over.”

“Well, I really have the opposite preference, but that’s none of your damn business.” You shake your head, smirking, “Let me just–”

Spitting into your hand, you spread your saliva over your fingers, and reached over to rub it all over the stain on his face. At first, it appeared promising. Wisps of hair fell over his eyes, blending into the still intact eyeliner, smelling of cheap hairspray he probably got at the local gas station. Strangely enough, you could smell traces of cologne and pine soap, two things you could swear were Mr. Heffley’s deal. It only slightly masked the smell of grease.

But then, as you drew back and wiped your hand on your black shirt, you found that the stain was still there. Bigger. Maybe a little more opaque on the sides? You scratched your neck.

“I think it was a waterproof marker.”

“What the hell? No, nuh-uh,” Rodrick launched to his feet, “you’re so gonna pay for that!”

Your body cracked into motion before you even processed that an incredibly angry, lanky boy was barreling towards you, and hopped on the bed towards the window. It wasn’t locked, nor did it have a screen, as was expected. Fuck the no bed rule, it didn’t apply in war.

You managed to wiggle it open and slide out, balancing on the roof like you’d been doing for the past few days– who knew avoiding the Heffleys’ prying questions about your recent appearances would actually be helpful? Rodrick leaned out the window, cackling, “No fair, that’s foul play! You know I don’t have shoes on.”

“Duh.”

“Yet.” He disappeared into the dark of his room, and you didn’t waste any time trying to find out if he was serious. You knew him well enough that chances are, he was.

Waving your hand, you yelled, “See you tomorrow morning, Heffley!”

The studs on your belt scratched against the shingles as you climbed down, landing swiftly on a few boxes you had previously stacked. You didn’t turn back, sturdy soles clicking in a rhythm against road pavement as the sun finally settled to sleep.

#male reader #x male reader #lgbtq #gay #male y/n #trans male reader #trans ftm #punk #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick x reader #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #cross posted to ao3 #i am still here

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goldkirk · 9 months ago

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#everything’s fine and I’m fine I’m just saying this to say it rn #I don’t know what I would choose to do if he WAS still alive and I COULD still report officially #but a large part of me is really really glad that that mayor is dead. and I don’t ever have to hear him or see him at events or feel his #unusually long weird fingernails and iron grip while telling me to smile for pictures ever again #a part of me would love to confront him #but most of me is just glad he’s gone and can’t scare me or make life hell for my parents ever again #he never should’ve gotten away with all the things he did for so many years. but he did.#now that we’re here in the present. it’s a gift to get to move on from it knowing he’s not still out there at least #he was a gross greedy person with police and government power and never should’ve had those positions for so many decades like he did #but that being said. he can’t ever speak to or touch me again.#I’m not grateful now. I wasn’t grateful then after he stopped pretending either. but I’m glad I get to walk away and never live near #any subdivision or building or anything else with his name or picture #ever again. and he’s never able to touch another child ever. good riddance. you gross greedy poor excuse for a public servant.#now I’m gonna go try to write some of what I’ve learned into a fic to help my future self and others #who do you think came out on top at the end of the day mayor L?#I came out of this with friends and kindness and gentleness and healthy rage. you died just as greedy and fake and paranoid as you lived.#I hope you got better towards the end. for your wife and family’s sake.#I get to protect others from people like you for the rest of my life. and I’ll win.#because I deserve it and every current kid deserves it too.#shh katie

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skoulsons · 2 years ago

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“Ellie?”

She had kept herself closed off most of the day, doing as much as skipping meals, not sketching, and declining their routine movie night.

Joel turned the knob, opening the door only slightly. “Ellie?”

“What?” She bit. She was around the corner, still in bed.

He bit his cheek. “Can I come in?”

She sniffled, a mumbled yeah from around the corner to let him know it was okay. He entered, keeping the door somewhat open behind him. He found her on her back, covers pulled up to her shoulders as she stared at the ceiling, counting imaginary stars.

The look on her face was a sure sign, as any, that things were not good.

He sat by her feet, the corner of the mattress sinking down as he sat, her feet following suit and lightly falling against his lower back.

“Do you need something?”

Joel inhaled and exhaled. He kept his hands awkwardly in his lap. “I wanted to check up on you.”

“Why? I’m fine,” she grumbled, eyes still glued to the ceiling.

“You sure?”

She wasn’t. She knew she wasn’t fine. Every possible thought about Joel, Tommy, Maria, Riley, Sam, or Henry that wasn’t positive made its way to the forefront of her brain, twisting everything she knew about them. Making her believe things that she was sure weren’t true. Convincing her of truths that were hard to shake.

Everything is still so new to them. Young and needing navigation and direction. Their relationship and being together now, no plan in sight of leaving or disregarding the other.

She has someone in her life now who cares about her. Who has cared about her for over a year. Someone who dedicates every single day to being present. Who always makes breakfast for the two of them. Someone who holds her when she cries and who lifts her up even higher when she’s happy. Who carries her to bed when she needs it and finds her new comics when he’s outside the walls. Who protects her at every moment and encourages her to eat and shower when she struggles.

Someone who loves her.

And that revelation is what makes these days even harder.

“Hey…” he nudged, turning his body slightly more towards her. “What’s goin’ on, baby?”

Ellie sighed, closing her eyes tightly, waves of colors forming in the black of her vision the harder she squeezed. She opened them, her eyesight wavering as tears pooled at her eyelids. The imaginary stars on the ceiling kept her gaze, still avoiding Joel’s concern.

“Today just… hasn’t been good.”

And while he knew it, hearing it from her still hurts to know. Whatever happened, it hurts to know she’s struggling.

“I think it’s been little worse than hasn’t been good.” It felt inappropriate to point out her near crying and the tight-lipped expression on her face in an attempt to keep her emotions at bay.

“I’m just… having fucked up thoughts,” she sighed, tracing all the constellations she knew into the white of the ceiling.

Joel didn’t say anything. In all honesty, he didn’t know what to say.

Neither of them were the best at talking. Sharing something that pissed them off, frustrated them, or upset them and navigating that conversation in a healthy manner always felt like forcefully pulling teeth before they ever broke the surface of the gums.

Joel hopes his silence is an invitation for her to continue. He wants to help, to walk through what bothering her with her.

“I…,” she started, choking slightly on the syllable. “I feel like people don’t care. They don’t care, they don’t…love.”

Joel tilted his head to the side, eyeing her avoidant gaze.

Ellie brought her hand up and wiped it across her right temple. Her voice wavered, her lip quivering as she spoke, “me.”

Joel had an inclination, but hearing it still hurt all the same.

“I feel like people…” she paused, sniffled heavily. She lazily raised her arm off the bed in his direction, “you… don’t.”

Frustrated, Ellie sat up, her back making content with the headboard harder than she intended. She locked eyes with him momentarily before avoiding his gaze again, fixing hers around the room. Her dresser, a heap of clothes on the floor, her blinds, and the open door.

She stopped keeping her head upright and let the crown of her head fall back, banging against the headboard. She sighed, a wet, embarrassing laugh escaping her. “I… I know. I know you do. I do. But sometimes, I just… get convinced you don’t.”

She fiddles with her hands in her lap as her tears threaten to spill over, Ellie massaging her fingers and cracking her knuckles, even with nothing left to crack. She picks at her cuticles and nails uncomfortably, clearing her throat to get rid of the tight burning that has coated it.

“What convinces you?” Joel asked, his eyes looking twenty years younger—like he’s talking to someone else entirely. Like he’s held a similar conversation before.

His question stumps her.

And she realizes it’s nothing. Nothing has ever convinced her. Nothing could convince her that Joel doesn’t care about her. Nothing could ever truly convince her that Joel doesn’t love her.

He may get frustrated over something. He may be extra tired some days. He may spend a little more strength some days fighting his own demons that it’s hard to be there 100% for her.

But those things don’t mean he doesn’t love her. They don’t mean he wouldn’t lay down his life for her at any given moment. They don’t mean he doesn’t look at her with anything less than adoration, devotion, and appreciation for who she is. Who she is and what she has come to mean to him.

“Have I ever done anything-“

She cut him off. “No. No, no. Fuck no, never.” She threw the crown of her against the headboard again, a few tears spilling down the side of her face and flowing along her jawline. She hastily wiped them away, clearing her throat.

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I guess I… don’t think I deserve it or something. So I look at you or Tommy or I… I remember Riley or Sam or anyone else and I… I think they don’t—didn’t care.”

She knows they do. Riley—she knows. Sam she knows. Henry, too. Tommy and Maria—she knows. Joel—he she knows better than any of the others.

“I remember them or I…” she brought her head down from her gaze on the ceiling and looked at him, clearly, for the first time. “I look at you and I wonder why.”

She cries. Her lips pressed together, not enough breath in her lungs to combat the tears falling down her face and slipping down her neck, soaking the collar of her shirt. She wipes and wipes and wipes until her tear-soaked hands can’t catch anymore and they flow freely. She dries her hands on her sheets and it’s still not enough to catch every single one.

Joel moves quickly, his right hand lightly on her shin as he reaches his left out towards her, keeping it held right above her lap for her to feel.

She can barely see, and yet she reaches out, knowing he’s there. Trusting he’s there.

She grabs his left hand with her right, holding it until her knuckles turn white and it hurts. Until it stings and her fingers go numb. Until her hand shakes and the blood flow is cut off from her fingertips.

He moves his right hand from her shin to press a fist into the mattress on the other side of her, scooting himself closer to her. He settles closer to her, bringing his right hand up her shoulder and eventually finding its home on her cheek. He strokes his thumb across it, more tears falling as she leans into it. She turns her head into it, her lips in his palm as he continues wiping her tears.

He pulls his hand back from her face and brings it to her other cheek, sliding his knuckles across to clear the streaks of tears. He returns his hand back to her other cheek, lightly scratching at the roots of her hair on the back of her neck.

Ellie grabs the collar of her shirt with her left hand, wiping the snot from her nose and using any drier part of her shirt to dry her neck and chin.

Joel lifts his left hand to bring up to her face, but a mumbled, snotty no keeps it in her lap, Ellie still clutching it.

She continues to sniffle, finally opening her eyes to see Joel looking back at her, a streak down the left side of his face, right by his ear.

“I’m sorry,” she says, quickly averting her gaze from his.

He smiles slightly, rubbing those all-comforting circles with his thumb over hand. He brings his hand up from her cheek as she closes her eyes, using two fingers to drag hairs down her forehead and tuck them behind her ear.

They didn’t need to be tucked away—but the affection always comforts her.

She takes his right hand in her left, bringing it down into her lap next to their other hands. She watches their hands intently as she rubs circles on his with her right hand and he rubs circles on hers with his right.

“Hey,” he whispers, trying to get her attention. It does, and she looks up at him. The tug on the corner of his lips reaches his eyes. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“No it’s… it’s stupid. I shouldn’t be crying over something I know isn’t true…”

“You know it’s not true?”

She inhales a shaky breath and exhales one just as heavy. She focuses on it, keeping any other tears down as best she can through controlled breathing.

“Yeah. Yeah I… I know.” She pauses for another breath. “But sometimes it’s… fucking difficult. I don’t…” she hesitates, shaking slightly, “I don’t want to look at you and wonder why.”

She chokes, wiping her cheek on the shoulder of her shirt. She feels her back against the headboard and adjusts slightly, rolling her shoulder blades over it.

She looks up at him. His eyes still hold that twenty-year-old look. They glisten because of the tears gathered in them, and the loving smile that hasn’t quite reached his lips has already hit his eyes.

“I’ll remind you. Every day, if I have to—if you want me to. Even if you don’t, I might jus’ have to-“

She laughs—giggles—at that. He laughs too, the kind of laugh that resides deep in his chest. The one that sounds better through his rare toothy smile. The laugh she only hears so often. The laugh when he thinks he’s done something right. The almost triumphant laugh when he seems to have cheered her up.

Ellie smiles, watching his own unwavering smile. “You can, if you think about it. I mean, I won’t expect it every day. If you forget some days, it’s fine. I’m not-”

“Ellie.”

“Sorry.”

Joel takes note of her. The dried tears along her cheeks. Her red and puffy eyes. The way her nose is red. The soaked collar of her shirt.

He doesn’t want to see her like this again. Not over thoughts like this.

“Will reminding you help? You know… keep thoughts like this away?”

She opens her mouth to speak, but it hits her that she doesn’t know. She’s never been positively reminded, certainly not daily, that someone cares for and loves her. No one’s been constant enough to tell her the truths she missed out on as a child. No one’s stuck around long enough for them to mean anything. No one has ever loved her enough to say them and mean them. Nothing other than doubt, hesitation, or reluctance has followed such reminders.

“I don’t know. I think, I… I hope. I don’t know, I’ve… never had someone who did something like that.”

He doesn’t frown at the thought, but his smile fades. Sadness, disbelief at the thought, the truth that she’d never had this before. “Well… we can try it out. You can tell me if you hate it ‘n we can try something’ else.” He smiled again as he rubbed more circles along her hands. “Sound fair?”

She smiles, tears welling at her eyes again. One spills over, Ellie fervently nodding in response to Joel’s question before too many more tears follow.

He lets go of her left hand and opens his arm up, welcoming her in. She scoots into him, tucking her body against him. She lets her legs freely fall into his as she leans against his body, his right arm coming across her back and holding her shoulder tightly. She keeps her face hidden away as best she can in the crook of his neck and shoulder. Her right hand finds the bottom of his shirt, rubbing the fabric back and forth between her fingers.

Joel kisses her head, leaving his lips pressed into her hair briefly. “I just… I don’t want this to become something you know is true. Cause it ain’t.”

“It won’t. I… I know it’s not true.”

He kisses her head again, a muffled good reverberating through her. He rubs her upper arm a few times.

“Come here,” he says, letting go of her shoulder and standing up.

She smiles shyly, standing up and wasting no time to hold on to him, her arms wrapping around his middle and settling behind his back. She rests her ear right over his heart, the thump-thump drowning the world out. Drowning her thoughts. Her feet stand in between his, Ellie attempting to get as close to him as she can.

Joel, just like every time before and every time to come after, keeps a steady hand across her back and one behind her head, carefully threading his fingers through her hair. He tilts his head down, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

He sways them gently, covering her back in hand-drawn lines, circles, and a myriad of other shapes. “This is your first reminder.”

She giggles at that.

Something bubbles in her chest. A fire. Butterflies—as cheesy as she thinks that is—it fits. It tickles, in a way. It reaches her finger tips and warms her skin. It helps her breathe easier and keeps her heartbeat beat in rhythm with his. It slows her thoughts and relaxes her shoulder. It lets her relax completely against his embrace.

The reminder is there. The reminder of his care and protection, no matter what. The reminder of the steadfast, uncompromising, sacrificial love that he has for her.

#this is uh #incredibly personal #probably the most personal thing I’ve posted #I’ve never personally been comforted like this #but the way Ellie feels is how I do #pretty much every single day #and it’s not like it’s ever been made evident to those in my life #especially my family #so I’ve never been comforted over it and it still haunts me into adulthood #and I’ve had. not the best past few #weeks? just a lot of thinking and dilemmas and a lot of things and it’s been kind of emotionally and mentally draining #and then my period started and #just about every single thing today has gone bad so #I’ve been crying a while. I just don’t feel well currently and more or less projected #this like 2400 words but it probably won’t go on ao3 bc of how personal it can be to me?#I don’t know I’ll have a real fic out in a few days #anyway sorry this is probably heavy #L writes

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